BLACK. 


F. GIBBONS 


THOSE 
BLACK  DIAMOND 

MEN 


•jt'jf 


THOSE 
BLACK  DIAMOND 

MEN 

A  Tale  of  the  Anthrax  Valley 

BY 

WILLIAM  FUTHEY  GIBBONS 


NEW    YORK          CHICAGO          TORONTO 

FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 
1902 


COPYRIGHT  1902  BY 

FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 
(June) 


To 

My  Comrade 


2129747 


FOREWORD 

SOMETIME  when  the  light  of  a  winter  sunset  is 
flooding  the  street,  let  the  reader  look  narrowly 
at  a  stream  of  coal  as  it  slides  along  the  chute 
across  the  sidewalk.  If  the  lumps  are  large  and  ruSty, 
he  may  see  that  they  are  stained  a  blood  red.  It  is  only 
the  oxide  of  iron.  Yet  coal  cannot  be  obtained  except 
at  the  cost  of  life. 

The  miner's  life  calls  for  risk  and  sacrifice,  not  only 
for  himself,  but  equally  for  others.  This  sort  of  life 
develops  heroism.  Yet  there  are  no  stage-heroes  in  the 
mines, — only  plain  men.  If  one  is  in  danger  of  death, 
his  comrades  will  risk  their  own  lives  for  him, — and 
that  is  all  there  is  about  it.  But  he  who  leads  the 
rescuing  party  is  no  hero  in  his  own  eyes;  just  an 
average  sort  of  man  who  may  need  to  be  "  brought 
out "  himself  to-morrow. 

The  characters  in  this  book  are  fictitious :  the  char 
acteristics  are  real.  Such  things  as  are  here  recorded 
happen  every  day.  For  nearly  fifteen  years  the  lights 
and  shadows  in  these  pages  have  fallen  across  the 
author's  path  as  he  has  gone  among  this  people. 

One  of  the  hindrances  to  an  understanding  of  other 
classes  is  a  lack  of  imagination.  It  is  difficult  for  one 
whose  life  has  been  clean  and  safe  to  put  himself  in  the 

7 


8  FOREWORD 

place  of  another  who  is  constantly  struggling  in  the 
dark.  Because  those  who  know  nothing  of  the  miner's 
life  find  it  so  hard  to  sympathize  with  him  in  his  needs 
and  temptations,  this  book  has  been  written. 

Some  of  the  incidents  here  narrated  have  made  their 
appearance  in  periodical  form.  They  are  here  ampli 
fied  and  presented  in  their  proper  relation. 

W.  F.  G. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION 15 

II.  THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT    ....  27 

III.  COALTON  BARRACKS 43 

IV.  A  TOY  SOLDIER 57 

V.  THE   HERETIC'S   PARISH 77 

VI.  AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY 89 

VII.  THE  UNDOING  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  GOOCH   .        .        .  103 

VIII.  THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK 125 

IX.  A  ONE-MULE  MAN 137 

X.  THE  COST  OF  MINING 157 

XI.  THE  EXPENSE  OF  TRANSPORTATION    ....  171 

XII.  THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP 181 

XIII.  A  MAGYAR  PARADISE 199 

XIV.  THE  SCHOOL  IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH    .        .        .        .211 
XV.  AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT 225 

XVI.  CASEY'S    SPEAK-EASY 245 

XVII.  ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN 255 

XVIII.  MARY  Liz  IN  THE  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN        .        .       .  269 

XIX.  THE  OLD  MOGUL'S  FRESH  AIR  FUND         .        .        .  281 

XX.  THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY 290 

9 


io  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XXI.  THE  PROBATION  OF  REV.  ARCHIBALD  HUDDERFIELD    .    303 
XXII.  THE  STRIKE  OF  THE  "MALGAMATED  TERRORS      .       .317 

XXIII.  A  SCAB  SLATE  PICKER 337 

XXIV.  IN  THE  SINKAGES 357 

XXV.  THE  SULPHURING  OF  SUNDERLAND  RED    .       .       .    365 

XXVI.  A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY         ....    375 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

IMPRISONED  BY  A  FALL  OF  ROOF        .        Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

HOW  THE  UNDERGROUND  HALF  WORK        .       80 
"WEH'IST  HIM  UP  THE  SHAFT"  .         .         .144 
THE  OFFICERS  OF  THE  'MALGAMATED  TER 
RORS         328 

"THEY  WERE  FIGHTING  THE  FIRE  FACE  TO 

FACE" 368 


THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION 


"  Be  not  so  busy  with  your  own  career, 
However  noble,  that  you  cannot  hear 
The  sighs  of  those  who  look  to  you  for  help, 
For  this  is  purchasing  success  too  dear." 

— DUER. 

"  W 'hen  we  are  poor,  we  always  have  very  clear  ideas 
of  the  duties  vf  the  rich;  but  when  we  gain  money, 
we  are  experts  in  the  science  of  showing  the  poor  how 
to  behave." — PUCK. 


THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION 

IT  was  the  day  when  the  strike  was  declared.  The 
Old  Mogul  was  relieving  his  feelings  by  the  use 
of  picturesque  profanity.  Everybody  about  the 
office  of  the  Anthrax  Valley  Railroad  knew  that  the 
President  was  mad.  It  was  a  fact  which  he  made 
no  effort  to  conceal.  He  was  in  truth  in  a  most  vil 
lainous  temper;  not  so  much  at  the  unfortunate  victims 
of  his  ill-humour,  or  even  the  persons  who  were  the 
authors  of  his  trouble.  The  Old  Mogul  was  mad  at 
himself. 

"  Of  all  the  infernal,  single-tracked,  narrow-gauged, 
local  freight  torn-fools,  I  am  the  worst." 

He  had  allowed  himself  to  be  forced  into  a  false 
position  towards  his  employees.  As  a  result  the  men 
who  worked  in  the  mines  of  the  company  had  struck, 
and  now  the  men  who  were  on  the  railroad  were 
going  on  strike.  The  Old  Mogul  had  never  before  in 
all  his  life  had  a  strike  on  his  hands. 

It  was  all  on  account  of  the  "  gentlemen's  agree 
ment."  As  if  half-a-dozen  New  York  bankers,  who 
would  not  know  a  mine-mule  from  a  goat,  could  settle 
the  trouble  without  hearing  the  men's  side  of  the 
case!  A  gentlemen's  agreement  forsooth!  The  Old 
Mogul  had  cursed  the  aforesaid  agreement  both  si- 

15 


16     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

lently  and  audibly,  out  of  the  office  and  in  the  office, 
across  the  velvet-carpeted  floors  and  up  and  down  the 
halls.  But  all  his  objurgations  failed  to  free  him  from 
the  consequences  of  the  agreement,  or  to  relieve  his 
feelings.  The  fault  was  his  own. 

It  is  well-known  that  the  coal-roads  are  the  most 
prosperous  corporations  under  the  sun  and  the  Old 
Mogul's  road  was  the  most  brutally  prosperous  of 
them  all. 

This  magnate  kept  his  office  in  the  city  of  Carbon- 
ville  instead  of  in  New  York,  where  all  the  rail 
road  presidents  go.  If  he  had  only  been  willing  to 
move,  and  thus  taken  himself  out  of  the  range  of  the 
pitiful  people  whom  his  company  fed  by  giving  them 
work  in  the  mines,  and,  incidentally  killed,  he  would 
have  avoided  many  an  uncomfortable  interview  with 
the  survivors.  But  Hatton,  as  a  boy,  had  tramped 
over  the  Pennsylvania  mountains  and  drudged  as  a 
youth  on  the  towpath  of  the  canal,  which  he  had  after 
wards  bankrupted;  and  he  loved  the  land  of  his  birth 
more  than  the  cities  of  the  stranger.  Furthermore, 
he  was  obstinate.  His  road  controlled  the  anthracite 
market  and  he  would  not  go  to  the  city  to  sell  his 
coal.  Let  the  brokers  come  to  him  and  sue  for  a  re 
duction  in  freight  rates.  He  knew  when  he  had  a 
cinch. 

So  the  city  of  Carbonville  grew  larger  and  the  rail 
road  office  buildings  waxed  higher  and  broader  as  the 
profits  of  the  coal  baron  increased.  Yet  in  spite  of  its 
enormous  and  increasing  enterprises,  the  Anthrax 
Valley  Railroad  was  involved  in  continual,  petty  dis- 


THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION     17 

putes  with  the  aggrieved  owners  of  deceased  livestock, 
especially  cows  which  had  come  to  their  death  through 
persistent  determination  to  cross  from  one  narrow 
meadow  to  another  by  way  of  the  track.  The  cows 
had  had  their  rights  on  the  rocky  banks  of  the  creek 
for  a  far  longer  period  of  time  than  the  railroad.  But 
such  rights  were  not  respected  very  highly  by  engineers 
when  they  came  skating  down  the  grades  with  a  hun 
dred  coal  cars  behind  them. 

As  a  result,  the  department  of  claims  and  damages 
ran  on  full  time,  and  the  "  mourner's  bench  "  where 
the  claimants  sat  was  seldom  vacant.  So  long  as 
the  amounts  paid  out  for  losses  were  kept  below  a  cer 
tain  figure,  all  went  well.  But  if  the  road  had  been 
compelled  to  go  into  court  to  pay  for  the  life  of  some 
human  victim,  then  the  Old  Mogul  was  apt  to  refuse 
to  pass  the  applications  for  damage  done  to  cattle. 
That  meant  trouble  for  the  department. 

Not  all  the  cases  were  tragedies.  There  was  "  the 
celebrated  case  of  Angela's  cow."  Angela  Jindy  was 
an  old  Italian  woman.  She  seemed  very  old,  for  she 
was  a  grandmother  with  a  wrinkled  face  and  knotted 
hands,  although  only  forty.  She  was  a  widow  who 
had  followed  her  son  to  America.  In  Italy  she  had 
toiled  in  the  fields,  but  in  the  Anthrax  Valley  there 
was  no  farm  land  to  cultivate;  so,  while  the  daughter- 
in-law  kept  the  house,  Angela  picked  coal  from  the 
dumps  and  carried  it  home  on  her  head,  sometimes 
carrying  one  of  her  son's  babies  on  her  hip  besides. 

It  happened  that  Angela  had  visited  the  depart 
ment  of  claims  and  damages  at  the  same  time  that 


18     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  Old  Mogul  was  telling  the  labour  union  men  that 
he  would  stand  by  the  "  gentlemen's  agreement." 

The  men  could  have  understood  the  uncomplicated 
wrath  of  the  Old  Mogul.  They  were  used  to  that. 
But  they  were  puzzled  by  his  efforts  at  self-restraint, 
and  his  refusal  to  arbitrate. 

'  This  is  not  my  day  to  thresh  this  thing  out  with 
you,"  he  said  when  they  had  stated  their  case.  "  I'll 
stand  by  the  gentlemen's  agreement.  We  have  de 
cided  not  to  discuss  this  thing  with  the  men  at  all. 
I'm  talking  to  you  fellows  now  only  as  private  in 
dividuals  and  it  might  as  well  stop  right  here.  I've 
about  run  out  of  conversation." 

"  But,  Mr.  Hatton,  we're  willing  to  arbitrate ' 

"  There's  nothing  to  arbitrate,  I  say,"  said  the 
President  with  something  of  his  natural  testiness.  "  I 
stand  by  the  gentlemen's  agreement." 

"  Mr.  Hatton,  you've  always  been  willing  to  do  the 
fair  thing.  Why  not  arbitrate  this?  Bishop  Vaux 
has  agreed  to  be  one " 

"  Let  him  go  to  blazes  and  arbitrate  the  case  of 
the  men  that  made  the  agreement !  "  shouted  the  Old 
Mogul.  "  I've  got  no  time  for  all  this  talk  about  arbi 
tration.  You  can  either  handle  the  soft  coal  which 
this  road  intends  to  haul,  or  you  can  strike  right  here 
on  the  carpet,  and  then  go  to  the  paymaster  and  get 
your  time.  That's  all.  Now  there's  room  for  you  on 
the  sidewalk !  " 

When  the  Old  Mogul  had  somewhat  exhausted  his 
stock  of  expletives  he  visited  the  department  of  claims 
and  damages  himself  to  consult  certain  files  that  could 


THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION     19 

not  be  brought  to  his  office.  It  had  been  a  stormy 
time  for  the  chief  clerk,  for  the  President  had  not 
found  matters  in  just  the  shape  he  wished.  As  he  left 
the  department  he  almost  ran  into  the  arms  of  old 
Angela,  who  had  risen  from  the  "  mourner's  bench  " 
when  the  door  opened.  The  Mogul  called  sharply: 
"  Matthews,  I  wish  you'd  clear  off  these  cases  and 
not  have  the  office  clogged  up  with  a  lot  of  garlicky 
Italians !  " 

The  chief  clerk  had  worked  for  the  Company  for 
twenty-six  years,  almost  as  long  as  the  Mogul  him 
self;  but  he  had  not  risen  to  be  President.  He  knew 
that  when  Mr.  Hatton  was  in  that  temper  there  was 
no  use  to  make  any  answer,  so  he  pretended  to  be  busy 
hunting  for  the  lost  files  and  left  the  Mogul  to  wrestle 
with  Angela. 

"  Please,  Mr.  Mogul,  my  capra  you  have  killed  at 
twenty- four  August,  train  numero  twenty.  I  have  no 
money.  No  can  buy  milk." 

"  Eh?  What's  that?  I  guess  we  didn't  kill  your 
cow." 

Angela  repeated  her  statement  with  parrot-like  ex 
actness. 

"  Bring  me  the  running-sheet  for  August  twenty- 
fourth,"  the  Mogul  called. 

"  You  see  there's  no  cow  reported  killed  here,"  he 
said  holding  up  the  sheet  as  though  she  could  read  its 
contents. 

"  Mr.  Hatton,  you  don't  understand  her  language. 
She  isn't  complaining  about  the  loss  of  a  c " 

The    President    of    the    Anthrax    Valley    Railroad 


io    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

turned  to  the  clerk,  "  When  I  need  your  advice  about 
conducting  the  business  of  this  railroad,  I'll  request  it. 
If  you  will  find  those  files,  I  shall  be  much  obliged  to 
you."  Turning  back  to  Angela  he  said  with  chilly 
politeness :  "  Madam,  you  must  bring  proof  if  you 
expect  us  to  pay  any  attention  to  your  claim.  We 
keep  a  careful  record  and  there  is  no  entry  here  which 
agrees  with  your  claim." 

"  But  my  son  he  see  train  numero  twenty.  My  son, 
he  come  many  time.  I  also  come  many  time.  He 
say,"  pointing  to  the  clerk,  "  you  will  give  no  money. 
He  say  my  capra  too  little.  But  he  was  all-a  me  have ! 
Then  the  lawyer  he  tell-a  my  son " 

"  If  you've  called  in  a  shyster  lawyer  to  press  your 
claim,  I  won't  have  anything  to  do  with  him  or  with 
your  claim  either.  I'm  busy  now.  You'd  better  go 
home." 

"  Please,  Mr.  Mogul,  hear  what  I  tell-a  you.  The 
lawyer  he  say  will  mak-a  ap-pli-ca-tion  for  large 
amount.  After  you  pay,  must-a  give  him  half. 
Please,  Mr.  Mogul,  why  you  pay  so  much  to  him? 
Why  no  pay  me?  " 

"  I  won't  pay  him,  nor  I  won't  pay  you.  Do  you 
understand?  You  can't  collect  your  claim  for  your 
cow  by  law." 

"  No,  Mr.  Mogul,  I  have  no  cow.  I  have  no  money. 
No  can  buy  milk  for  bambino.  You  have  kill-a  my 
capra.  Engine  numero  twenty,  he  kill-a  my  capra — 
what  you  call?  He  give  milk  for  bambino.  Poor 
bambino!  Now  he  was  no  milk  to  eat.  He  look-a 
bad !  He  will  die.  See !  "  From  the  shawl  which  she 


THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION     21 

had  slung  across  one  shoulder  down  to  the  opposite 
hip,  Angela  produced  a  weazened  Italian  baby  and  held 
it  out  to  the  Old  Mogul. 

Now  the  Mogul,  in  spite  of  his  rough  words  and 
obstinate  ways,  could  not  bear  to  think  about  suffer 
ing  children. 

"  Never  mind  about  the  baby,"  he  hastened  to  say. 
"  I  suppose  this  was  the  best  cow  you  ever  had?  " 

"  No,  he  not  what  you  call  the  best-a  cow.  But 
he  give  milk — so  rich — so  strong.  Now  he  was  all-a 
gone.  What  you  say?  We  got  left." 

Angela  folded  her  threadbare  shawl  about  the  babe 
with  such  an  air  of  injured  dignity  that  the  Mogul 
stopped  laughing. 

"  How  much  do  you  claim?    Fifty  dollars?  " 

Angela  could  not  tell  whether  he  was  making  sport 
of  her;  the  amount  seemed  so  princely.  She  replied 
simply :  "  No,  Mr.  Mogul ;  not  half-a  that  much.  I 
want  to  make  square." 

The  President  looked  searchingly  into  Angela's 
face,  as  if  to  see  what  hidden  motive  might  be  in  her 
mind  for  such  an  admission  concerning  the  value  of 
her  property.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  conscientious 
scruples  on  the  part  of  the  public  when  dealing  with 
the  corporation  of  which  he  was  the  head. 

"  I  guess  you  don't  care  much  for  your  cow,"  he 
said  with  pretended  harshness.  "  You'd  better  go 
along." 

Then  the  fountains  of  Angela's  feelings  were  loosed. 
Was  not  this,  her  capra,  the  staff  and  support  of  her 
grandchildren's  helpless  infancy  ?  Had  she  not  grown 


22     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND   MEN 

up  in  the  bosom  of  the  family?  Would  she  not  come 
home  to  be  milked  when  called,  even  from  the  farthest 
limits  to  which  the  sound  of  their  voices  could  reach? 
And  the  bambino,  was  she  not  growing  daily  weaker 
for  want  of  proper  food,  while  the  milk  trust  added 
every  month  another  cent  per  quart  to  the  price?  And 
the  boy,  her  son's  first-born,  poor  crippled  child,  was 
he  not  failing  also?  And  little  Pippenella,  had  she 
not  had  the  "  ammonia "  and  had  not  the  doctor 
said  she  must  have  milk?  All  this  and  more,  a  great 
deal  more,  she  poured  forth  in  a  flood  of  fluent  Italian 
and  halting  English,  until  the  Mogul  showed  signs  of 
relenting.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  said, 
"  He  no  good-a  much,  but  he  all-a  we  got.  Now  we 
was  hard  luck-a !  " 

The  old  Mogul  called:  "  Make  out  a  check  for  fifty 
dollars,  and  send  a  boy  to  the  paymaster  to  get  it 
cashed.  Bring  gold,"  he  called  as  the  messenger  dis 
appeared  from  the  office. 

"  There's  twenty-five  dollars  for  your  cow  and 
twenty-five  dollars  for  telling  the  truth,"  he  said,  hand 
ing  her  the  money. 

"  Mr.  Mogul,  I  no  have-a  cow." 

"  I  know  you  haven't.  But  you  can  buy  one  now 
and  have  plenty  of  milk  for  the  baby.  There !  There ! 
Never  mind  that,"  and  he  escaped  into  the  inner  office 
to  avoid  the  shower  of  kisses  which  Angela  was  en 
deavouring  to  rain  upon  his  hands. 

The  old  woman  had  not  climbed  the  mountain  of 
coal  dust  behind  which  her  son's  cabin  stood,  before 


THE  SOULLESS  CORPORATION     23 

the  Second  Vice-President  came  out  of  the  account 
ant's  office  wearing  a  smile  so  wide  that  it  fairly  over 
flowed  the  boundaries  of  his  face.  Being  a  privileged 
person,  he  pushed  into  the  Old  Mogul's  private  office 
and  a  minute  later  the  halls  echoed  shouts  of  laughter. 

Perhaps  it  would  not  have  seemed  so  funny  if  ev 
erybody  had  not  been  so  excited  about  the  strike. 

"  How's  the  market  on  goats  to-day?  "  the  Second 
Vice-President  managed  to  ask  the  Old  Mogul  when 
he  could  control  his  voice.  "  I  hear  the  price  is  up 
about  six  hundred  points.  I  had  a  notion  to  take  a 
flyer  on  the  market  myself.  If  you  are  short  I  could 
furnish  you  with  a  thousand  or  so  black-faced  Italian 
nanny-goats,  live  ones, — that  is,  if  you  really  want  to 
buy." 

"  See  here,  what  the  deuce  are  you  cackling  about? 
You've  been  putting  up  some  sort  of  job  on  me,  I 
suppose.  Out  with  it!  " 

"Job  nothing!  "  the  Vice-President  shrieked,  going 
off  into  another  spasm.  "  You  set  up  the  job  on  your 
self.  I  leave  it  to  Matthews.  He  tried  to  set  you 
straight  on  the  Italian  lingo  for  goat  and  you  wouldn't 
let  him  talk.  Didn't  he  tell  you  that  capra  wasn't  the 
Italian  for  cow  ?  Fifty  dollars !  Holy  smoke !  "  and 
then  his  feelings  overpowered  him  again. 

For  one  full  minute  the  Old  Mogul  faced  his  fellow 
officer  in  silence,  then  he  said,  as  the  latter  paused  for 
breath, 

"  Won't  you  kindly  oblige  me  by  going  to  thunder?  " 

In  the  meantime  the  message  was  passing  from  desk 


24     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

to  desk  in  the  outer  offices:  "  The  boss  has  just  paid 
an  old  dago  woman  fifty  dollars  for  a  bloomin',  black- 
faced,  nanny-goat — dead!  " 

Before  the  mirth  had  subsided,  a  messenger  came 
from  the  inner  office  of  the  Old  Mogul  bearing  a 
check  for  fifty  dollars,  drawn  on  his  private  account, 
in  favour  of  the  paymaster  of  the  Anthrax  Valley 
Railroad. 

Then  the  second  message  went  round :  "  The  boss 
paid  for  that  goat  out  of  his  own  pocket,  like  a  little 
man." 

"  Whatever  else  you  may  say  about  him,  the  Old 
Mogul  pays  the  freight !  "  It  was  old  Matthews,  the 
clerk  in  the  claims  department,  who  said  this,  and  the 
remark  shows  that  he  was  of  a  forgiving  spirit. 

It  was  by  such  business  methods  as  this  that  the  Old 
Mogul  kept  his  hold  as  President  of  the  Anthrax 
Valley  Railroad,  long  past  the  age  when  most  men  are 
forced  to  retire  by  the  younger  stockholders. 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT 


Man  am  I  grown,  a  man's  work  must  I  do. 
Follow  the  deer?     Follow  the  Christ,  the  King, 
Live  pure,  speak  true,  right  wrong,  follow  the  King." 

— TENNYSON. 


II 

THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT 

THE  news  that  the  Old  Mogul  was  determined  to 
stand  by  the  gentlemen's  agreement,  and  that 
he  would  not  meet  the  men  of  the  Union  to 
arbitrate  the  questions  at  issue,  brought  things  to  a 
stand  still.     Except  for  its  passenger  trains,  the  An 
thrax  Valley  Railroad  was  not  able  to  move  a  wheel. 
At  the  mines  everything  was  silent.  But  for  the  watch 
men,  and  the  pump  runners  who  kept  the  mines  from 
flooding,  the  shafts  were  abandoned. 

Every  sort  of  business  suffered.  The  streets  were 
full  of  idle  men,  but  the  stores  were  empty.  An  in 
definable  gloom  and  apprehension  filled  the  air. 

A  week  after  the  strike  was  declared  the  Bishop  of 
Anthrax  sat  in  his  study  wrinkling  up  his  episcopal 
brows.  Since  coming  to  Carbonville  no  affair  of  his 
diocese  had  brought  such  tense  lines  into  his  strong, 
kindly  face.  The  old  man  was  gathering  up  his  forces 
and  arranging  his  arguments.  He  knew  that  he  would 
need  all  his  energies  for  the  struggle  which  was  to 
begin  within  the  next  few  minutes.  The  Bishop  was 
so  strong  a  man  that  he  did  not  often  need  to  call  up  his 
reserve  forces ;  but  a  man  is  so  much  harder  to  manage 
than  men! 

Bishop  Vaux  had  need  of  men.     His  diocese  had 

27 


28     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

recently  grown  both  in  wealth  and  in  population  more 
rapidly  than  any  other  section  of  the  Eastern  States. 
The  coal  mining  industry  had  developed  marvellously. 
Vast  hordes  of  foreigners  were  pouring  into  the  region 
as  fast  as  the  immigration  bureau  would  allow  them 
to  land.  The  condition  of  these  foreigners  was  miser 
able  indeed.  Many  of  them  were  desperately  poor. 
Until  the  contract  labour  laws  had  prevented  it,  the 
corporations,  whenever  a  strike  occurred,  had  brought 
new  droves  of  Slavs  or  Italians  to  the  mines  to  take 
the  places  of  the  English  speaking  miners  who  were 
demanding  better  wages.  English  became  almost  an 
unknown  tongue  on  the  streets  of  the  straggling  towns 
where  rival  nationalities  formed  their  "  Little  Italics  " 
or  "  New  Hungaries  "  or  "  Polanders  Patches." 

When  these  communities  were  first  established,  the 
houses  were  mere  shanties,  often  built  of  sticks  or 
stones  or  even  earth  heaped  together  in  the  rudest  man 
ner,  and  roofed  with  sheet  iron  from  the  powder  kegs 
of  the  miners. 

A  later  stage  of  this  village  life  was  the  establish 
ment  of  boarding  houses,  into  some  of  which  as  many 
as  twenty  men  were  gathered  in  one  room.  Each  man 
slept  on  the  floor  on  his  own  narrow,  straw-filled  bed. 
During  the  day,  his  bed  was  piled  against  the  wall. 
At  the  head  of  the  bunk  stood  his  individual  sack  of 
flour,  while  his  piece  of  smoked  meat  hung  from  the 
wall.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  "  boarding- frau  "  to  pre 
pare  the  food  of  each  man  separately  from  his  own 
supplies  at  any  time  of  the  day  when  he  might  be 
through  his  work. 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT   19 

The  men  had  but  few  amusements,  and  no  intel 
lectual  uplift.  In  almost  every  house  there  was  some 
musician  whose  skill  upon  the  accordion  was  confined 
to  the  production  of  a  few  monotonous  wailings  of  the 
homeland. 

Beside  the  food  with  which  each  man  provided  him 
self,  he  also  kept  a  full  supply  of  liquor.  On  pay  days 
the  men  of  the  boarding  house  clubbed  together  and 
bought  cheap  whiskey  by  the  pailful.  Then  the  pail 
was  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  the  men  took 
turns  at  the  dipper,  sometimes  marching  around  in  a 
circle,  singing  and  dancing.  Soon  the  house  would  be 
filled  with  brawling  men  and  later  with  those  who  were 
too  stupefied  even  to  fight. 

In  this  way  the  men  lived  until  those  who  were  more 
thrifty  could  save  money  enough  to  bring  their  wives 
or  sweethearts  from  the  fatherland  and  to  establish 
homes  for  themselves. 

Among  this  cosmopolitan  population  the  moral  need 
was  even  greater  than  the  physical.  Freed  from  the 
restraints  of  strong  paternal  governments,  the  nat 
ural  impulse  of  this  peasant  population  soon  ran  to 
license.  Even  those  who  were  inclined  toward  right 
eousness  grew  perplexed  amid  the  varying  standards 
of  morality.  When  the  opportunity  for  religious  wor 
ship  was  lost,  the  desire  soon  perished.  Laws  were 
held  in  contempt.  Fear  alone  restrained  the  passions 
of  men.  The  children  grew  up  utterly  ignorant,  or 
nearly  untaught,  and  threatened  to  outdo  their  par 
ents  in  wickedness.  The  sons  of  the  stranger  were 
entering  into  possession  of  the  fairest  inheritance  of 


30    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

those  who  had  founded  in  the  state  of  Pennsylvania  an 
asylum  for  the  oppressed.  Liberty  was  threatened  by 
anarchy;  learning  was  throttled  by  ignorance.  The 
lawlessness  of  the  Klondike  prevailed  in  the  heart  of 
a  Christian  civilization. 

The  first  miners  who  had  worked  in  the  Anthrax 
Valley  spoke  English,  coming  principally  from  Eng 
land,  Ireland  or  Wales.  Some  of  these  people  had  been 
members  of  the  Church  of  England  and  hence  came 
naturally  under  the  care  of  Bishop  Vaux.  Many  more 
came  from  the  liturgical  churches  of  the  Continent  and 
could  be  reached  by  the  church,  if  only  missionary  pas 
tors  could  be  found  for  the  field. 

But  the  men  were  lacking.  The  Bishop  had  just 
come  from  the  delivery  of  an  address  before  the  grad 
uating  class  of  the  theological  school  of  his  denomina 
tion.  He  had  asked  for  a  dozen  men  to  volunteer  for 
service  among  these  foreigners  and  he  came  away  bear 
ing  the  promise  of  one  man  to  consider  the  question  of 
entering  the  field  as  a  missionary. 

It. was  the  more  discouraging  to  the  Bishop  because 
there  were  points  here  and  there  where  the  church  had 
once  been  established.  In  the  days  when  the  lumber 
industry  thrived  and  afterwards  when  farming  was 
the  occupation  of  the  people,  churches  had  been  built. 
At  Coalton  a  flourishing  church  had  once  existed.  But 
now  even  this  was  dying.  As  the  Bishop  traversed  the 
naked,  dreary  territory  in  the  vicinity  of  Coalton, 
which  was  enormously  more  prosperous  since  the 
wealth  below  the  surface  had  been  developed,  there 
was  not  one  rector  who  required  his  care.  There  were 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT  31 

people  in  abundance;  indeed  the  Anthrax  Valley  was 
almost  like  a  continuous  village  along  the  line  of  the 
railroad.  But  there  was  hardly  a  church  of  any 
denomination,  except  here  and  there  a  Roman  Catho 
lic  church.  The  development  of  the  country  had  out 
run  the  church,  and  the  fact  lay  heavily  on  the  Bishop's 
heart. 

His  face  broke  into  a  smile  of  welcome  as  his  secre 
tary  announced  young  Warne,  who  had  arrived 
promptly  at  five  o'clock  to  keep  his  appointment.  Even 
though  the  Bishop  was  troubled  about  the  issue  of  the 
interview,  he  smiled;  for  Warne  was  a  man  to  rejoice 
over.  In  appearance  the  young  man  was  commanding. 
His  features  were  clear-cut,  handsome  and  classic. 
Long  limbed,  deep  chested,  well  balanced,  it  was  no 
wonder  that  he  had  been  easily  the  best  all-around  man 
in  his  class  in  college,  in  athletics,  in  the  class-room 
and  in  society. 

As  he  rose  to  greet  him,  a  distinct  wish  framed  itself 
in  the  Bishop's  mind  that  such  a  young  man  might 
have  been  his  own  son.  There  was  something  so 
sane,  so  frank  and  winning  about  him,  something  so 
imperious  and  so  well-fitted  to  command  success,  that 
the  Bishop  already  saw  him,  in  his  mind's  eye,  as  his 
own  successor  in  the  episcopal  chair. 

The  wish  was  no  new  one  in  the  good  man's  mind. 
Warne  was  the  son  of  his  earliest  and  most  steadfast 
friend.  Long  before  he  was  Bishop  of  Anthrax, 
Warne's  father  had  stood  by  his  side  in  every  enter 
prise  undertaken  by  the  church.  Warne's  house  had 
been  a  veritable  home  for  the  Bishop  and  the  clergy. 


32     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

No  secular  interests  had  ever  been  so  dear  to  the 
family  as  those  of  the  Bishop  and  the  church.  But 
now,  after  all  the  years  that  the  young  man  had  spent 
in  his  theological  training,  Henry  Martyn  Warne  had 
come  to  give  the  Bishop  the  reasons  why  he  could  not 
take  orders  in  the  church. 

Now  that  he  had  really  come  to  the  point,  Warne 
found  it  hard  to  begin.  Yet  it  was  not  his  custom  to 
shirk  hard  things;  so  as  soon  as  they  were  seated,  he 
plunged  into  the  difficult  subject. 

"  You  know  that  my  father  always  wanted  me  to 
prepare  for  the  ministry;  and  before  she  died,  my 
mother " 

He  hesitated  a  moment  at  the  mention  of  his 
mother's  name  and  the  Bishop  hastened  to  say : 

"  My  boy,  I  knew  all  this  from  your  birth.  Yes, 
you  were  destined  for  the  church  even  before  your 
birth.  You  cannot — you  dare  not  ignore  those  dedi 
catory  vows." 

"  That's  the  very  point.  How  can  I  be  bound  by  an 
agreement  in  the  making  of  which  I  had  no  voice? 
You  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  am  bound  to  fulfill  a 
promise  made  before  I  was  born?  " 

The  Bishop  had  counted  greatly  on  the  influence 
which  the  wish  of  Warne's  mother  was  likely  to  have 
upon  her  son.  Indeed  he  had  intended  to  reserve  that 
for  his  final  argument,  if  necessary.  But  he  had  been 
betrayed  by  Warne's  words  and  his  own  eagerness  into 
bringing  this  motive  to  bear  upon  Warne  at  the  very 
beginning  of  their  conference.  When  he  saw  how  the 
young  man  felt,  he  knew  better  than  to  press  the  point. 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT   33 

"  Let  me  hear  your  own  reasons,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  I  think  that  by  temperament, 
I  am  not  at  all  fitted  for  the  work.  Imagine  what  it 
would  mean  to  a  man  brought  up  as  I  have  been  to 
have  my  own  way,  to  be  dictated  to  by  a  congrega 
tion.  Suppose  some  of  the  tabbies  of  the  parish 
began  to  criticise  me  for  wearing  a  business  suit 
on  week-days,  for  instance.  Just  now  I  could  laugh 
at  such  a  thing  as  that,  even  if  it  were  made  an 
issue  in  the  management  of  the  parish,  but  maybe  I 
couldn't  if  it  came  on  top  of  a  number  of  similar  irri 
tations.  Hendricks,  of  my  class,  told  me  that  a  lot  of 
busybodies  in  his  church  went  for  him  because  he  wore 
a  red  tie  when  he  rode  his  bicycle.  At  the  same  time 
the  real  interests  of  the  parish  were  committed  to  the 
hands  of  a  shady  banker  and  a  stupid  brewer.  The 
banker  used  his  position  as  a  church  warden  to  influ 
ence  people  to  put  their  money  into  his  hands  and  then 
embezzled  the  funds  of  the  church  and  those  of  every 
body  else  whom  he  could  persuade  to  trust  him,  includ 
ing  all  the  brewer's  savings.  All  this  in  spite  of  what 
Hendricks  could  do  to  warn  him.  I'm  afraid  I  would 
have  said  things  that  were  not  polite,  if  I  had  had  to 
deal  with  such  an  assortment  of  idiots." 

"  But  surely  this  isn't  your  principal  reason  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  it  leads  to  it.  When  my  father  died,  there 
were  matters  connected  with  the  estate  which  could 
not  be  entrusted  to  others.  Up  to  that  time  I  had  had 
no  experience  in  business.  I  had  always  regarded  my 
self  as  a  candidate  for  orders  and  it  was  with  reluc 
tance  that  I  undertook  the  control  of  the  estate.  But 


34     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

when  I  had  once  begun,  I  was  fascinated  with  the  stir 
of  active  business  life.  It  seems  to  me  now  when 
I  look  back  that  up  to  this  time  I  had  lived  in  a  land  of 
dreams.  The  estate  has  engrossed  my  time  and  ener 
gies  for  the  last  three  years.  Then  came  that  Hatton 
matter.  I  don't  feel  that  I  have  done  anything  that 
anyone  else  might  not  have  done,  but  that  deal  with 
Hatton  has  turned  out  rather  successfully.  Now  why 
can't  I  use  for  the  glory  of  God  whatever  powers  I 
may  have  just  as  well  in  making  money  as  in  labour 
ing  in  the  ministry  ?  Can't  I  make  money  and  do  good 
with  it?  I  know  that  father  did,  for  I  have  seen  his 
private  accounts." 

"  Henry,  your  father  was  one  man  among  a  thou 
sand.  If  we  had  more  such  men,  business  would  be 
done  to  the  glory  of  God." 

"  That's  just  my  point.  I  want  to  work  that  way. 
So  many  great  business  transactions  are  shady.  There 
is  a  glaring  audacity  about  them,  or  something  else, 
which  blinds  the  successful  manipulator  to  the  fact 
that  a  moral  wrong  has  been  done  to  somebody." 

"Are  you  sure  that  you  could  resist  temptation  any 
better  than  others  ?  " 

"No;  but  I  mean  to  try.  I  have  my  father's  ex 
ample  to  help  to  keep  me  straight." 

"  Do  you  think  a  man  ought  to  speculate  for  the 
glory  of  God  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  he  speculates  at  all." 

"  Let  me  see :  I  think  you  said  you  were  concerned 
in  the  Hatton  deal.  I  did  not  know  that  before. 
Would  your  father  have  gone  into  that  ?  " 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT  35 

"  I  don't  think  so,  because  he  was  opposed  to  specu 
lation  of  any  sort.  But  anybody  else  would  have 
done  just  as  I  did,  if  he  had  happened  to  see  that  the 
Anthrax  people  must  have  that  land.  I  don't  claim 
any  superior  ability.  I  just  happened  to  see  it  and  se 
cured  an  option  before  anybody  else  did.  It  was  per 
fectly  fair.  Hatton  was  trying  to  buy  the  land, 
through  a  third  party,  for  less  than  its  value.  I  beat 
him  at  his  own  game." 

"  Henry,  I  am  not  a  business  man  and  I  didn't  know 
all  the  details  of  the  matter.  But,  if  I  understand  it, 
you  sold  to  Mr.  Hatton  a  strip  of  land  which  the  Rail 
road  had  to  have  for  its  new  coal  yards,  for  many  times 
what  it  cost  you.  You  had  what  you  call  a  '  cinch.' 
Do  you  think  that  accords  with  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  ?  Could  that  be  done  to  the  glory  of  God  ?  " 

It  was  Warne's  turn  now  to  feel  that  his  best  card 
had  been  played  and  lost.  As  he  was  silent,  the  Bishop 
went  on :  "  Don't  you  see  the  desperate  need  of  the 
work  of  the  church  here  in  these  mining  valleys? 
Don't  you  see  how  these  poor  people  need  you?  God 
has  given  you  wealth;  ought  you  not  to  use 
it  and  your  time  for  Him?  These  people  have  real 
grievances  as  well  as  desperate  needs:  do  you  know 
anything  about  them?  Here's  this  painful  strike,  for 
instance.  Your  wealth  and  business  interests  bring 
you  into  touch  with  the  coal  operators,  on  the  one 
hand;  might  you  not  come  into  sympathy  with  the 
miners  on  the  other?  You  might  help  to  settle  this 
strike  or  to  prevent  trouble  in  the  future,  if  you  chose." 

"  You  overestimate  my  ability,  Bishop." 


36     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

''  I  believe  you  could  fulfill  my  hopes,  if  you  only 
would." 

"  That  reminds  me  of  another  reason  I  meant  to 
give  why  I  seem  to  be  particularly  fitted  for  a  business 
career.  You  know  I  am  a  member  of  the  National 
Guard,  the  Twenty-fifth  Regiment.  I  have  lately  been 
elected  lieutenant,  and  I  am  surprised  to  find  how  the 
men  have  stood  by  me.  If  I  have  a  knack  for  man 
aging  men,  it  will  be  a  great  factor  in  business  success." 

The  Bishop  answered  slowly :  "  Yes,  but  for  the 
work  of  the  Master, — would  not  that  qualification  be 
of  great  value  there  too?" 

Warne  was  silent. 

"  Do  you  wish  that  you  wished  to  enter  the  minis 
try?  "  the  Bishop  asked.  "  You  ought  not  to  take  or 
ders  unless  you  feel  so  strongly  impelled  towards  the 
service  of  Christ  in  the  church  that  you  cannot  help 
it." 

A  slow  flush  mounted  Warne's  face.  "  I  don't  be 
lieve  I  do  wish  it,"  he  said. 

"  That  ought  to  settle  the  matter,"  said  the  Bishop, 
quietly. 

Warne  was  silent  again. 

"  Are  you  sure  there  is  nothing  more  to  tell  me?  " 
the  Bishop  asked. 

"  Well,  sir,  there  is  one  thing  more  that  I  want  to 
discuss  with  you.  I  didn't  want  to  tell  you  about  it 
until  we  had  settled  the  first  question,  although  it  has 
nothing  to  do  with  my  reasons  for  declining  the  minis 
try. 

"  I  needn't  tell  you  that  Helen  and  I  have  always 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT   37 

been  good  friends.  Since  I  have  had  this  deal  on  my 
hands  and  my  father's  estate  to  settle  I  have  not  been 
able  to  come  to  visit  you  as  often  as  I  used  to.  I  be 
lieve  you  know  how  much  I  think  of  her.  I  don't 
know  exactly  how  she  feels  towards  me,  for  she  has 
been  just  a  trifle  shy  of  me  recently.  But  it  has  been 
the  dream  of  my  life,  and  I  want  now  to  have  your 
permission  to  ask  her  to  become  my  wife." 

The  Bishop  did  not  speak  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  put  out  his  hand  and  covered  the  strong1  young  hand 
that  rested  on  the  corner  of  his  desk.  "  My  boy,  I 
have  prayed  for  this  for  years,"  was  all  he  could 
say. 

Warne  bowed  his  head  in  silence.  It  seemed  almost 
as  though  the  Bishop  stood  by  the  altar.  "  Pray  for  it 
now,"  he  said  reverently. 

"  If  I  give  my  consent  to  your  suit  for  Helen's  hand, 
will  you  promise  to  enter  the  ministry  ?  " 

The  younger  man  looked  up  quickly.  His  face 
showed  the  injury  which  he  felt.  Was  this  the  man 
who  criticised  business  deals?  Was  this  the  Bishop 
whom  he  had  pictured  standing  by  the  altar  ? 

"  I  fear  you  have  let  yourself  be  influenced  by  your 
love  for  Helen,"  the  Bishop  went  on  in  a  level  voice. 
"  You  have  heard,  perhaps,  some  of  the  hardships 
which  clergymen's  wives  have  been  called  upon  to 
suffer.  You  want  to  shield  Helen  from  possible  hard 
ship  and  annoyance  which  even  the  possession  of  wealth 
cannot  prevent." 

"  Why  do  you  talk  to  me  in  this  way  ?  I  have  said 
that  I  do  not  feel  called  upon  to  make  any  such  sacri- 


38     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

fice  of  my  personal  tastes  and  ambitions.  Helen  has 
not  entered  into  the  case.  I  don't  feel  it  and  that's 
all  there  is  about  it." 

"  Let  me  tell  you  something  more  that  may  help 
you  to  see  your  duty  to  make  the  sacrifice.  About  a 
month  ago  I  preached  on  the  duty  of  the  church  to 
send  out  missionaries." 

"  I  read  it.  It  was  a  strong  sermon  and  it  was  that 
which  made  me  canvass  my  own  feelings  again  and 
that  brought  me  here  to-day.  But  I  could  not  make 
such  a  sacrifice." 

The  Bishop  nodded  and  then  went  on :  "I  felt 
very  keenly  the  need  of  this  work  and  I  urged  as 
strongly  as  I  could  that  here  was  a  duty  which  we  dare 
not  shirk.  Since  I  have  been  Bishop  of  the  diocese, 
we  have  never  had  one  single  man  in  this  parish  or 
dained  to  the  ministry,  much  less  to  go  abroad  as  a 
missionary.  I  have  counted  on  you,  Henry,  to  take  up 
the  work " 

"  But  do  you  think  this  is  fair  to  use  such  arguments 
to  press  me  into  a  calling  which  I  respect  most  highly, 
but  for  which  I  have  said  more  than  once  I  felt  no 
overwhelming  desire?  I  don't  think  you  ought " 

"  Wait  till  I  have  finished.  I  say  that  I  felt  most 
deeply  this  lack  of  results  in  my  ministry.  After  the 
sermon  I  gave  out  that  hymn  of  Bishop  How's,  writ 
ten  you  may  remember  not  for  the  unregenerate,  but 
for  Christian  people, 

'  O  Jesus  thou  art  standing 

Outside  the  fast  closed  door, 
In  lowly  patience  waiting 
To  cross  the  threshold  o'er.' 


THE  BISHOP'S  VULNERABLE  POINT  39 

Before  I  dismissed  the  congregation,  I  said  I  would 
meet  in  my  study  anyone  whose  heart  had  been  stirred 
to  take  up  the  work.  At  the  appointed  time  a  young 
woman  came.  She  had  been  tenderly  reared.  I  be 
lieve  she  has  been  one  of  the  most  devout  Christians 
among  us  from  her  earliest  years.  Her  mother — her 
mother  is  dead.  She  is  the  very  stay  and  prop  of  her 
father's  declining  years — that  is,  I  would  say,  she 
stands  very  close  to  his  heart.  When  she  told  me  that 
she  had  come  in  response  to  my  invitation,  I  could  only 
say,  '  Oh,  my  dear  girl,  I  didn't  mean  you!  I  don't 
see  how  we  can  spare  you ! ' — I  am  telling  you  this  be 
cause  I  want  you  to  understand  the  sacrifice.  Henry, 
neither  you  nor  I  have  ever  made  such  a  sacrifice  as 
my — as  this  young  woman  is  making." 

The  gong  of  the  cathedral  clock  on  the  mantel 
chimed  the  hour  and  then  silence  fell  between  the  two 
men  for  some  minutes. 

"  I  don't  feel  that  I  have  the  right  to  go  into  this 
matter  any  further,"  the  Bishop  resumed.  "  This 
much,  however,  I  can  say :  It  had  not  been  my  sermon 
that  moved  her.  The  one  thing  she  referred  to  as 
having  influenced  her  was  that  verse  of  How's, 

'O  Jesus,  thou  art  knocking: 

And  lo!  that  hand  is  scarred, 
And  thorns  thy  brow  encircle, 

And   tears   thy   face   have   marred : 
Oh,  love  that  passeth  knowledge, 

So  patiently  to  wait ! 
Oh,  sin  that  hath  no  equal, 

So  fast  to  bar  the  gate ! ' 

It  wasn't  to  me  she  was  answering  the  question ;  it  was 
to  the  Master.  Henry,  it  was  Helen  who  said  this! 


40     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

She  is  going  to  China  as  a  foreign  missionary ;  I  can 
not — cannot  let  her  go !  Will  you  help  me  ?  Go  down 
to  the  music  room  and  see  her." 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  the  Bishop  paced  past  the 
window  of  his  study,  he  saw  Warne  cross  the  snow- 
covered  lawn  in  the  darkness.  He  had  forgotten  his 
umbrella  and  his  overcoat.  The  young  man's  strong 
figure  seemed  bent  and  his  step  was  uncertain.  Within 
the  house  a  strain  from  the  hymn  which  the  Bishop 
had  quoted  pierced  the  darkness  like  a  wail  of  re 
nunciation.  The  Bishop  cast  himself  upon  the  floor 
beside  the  window  and  lifted  his  hands  towards  the 
stars  in  the  distant  sky. 


COALTON  BARRACKS 


//  Jesus  Christ  is  a  man  — 

And  only  a  man,  —  /  say 
That  of  all  mankind  I  cleave  to  him, 

And  to  him  will  I  cleave  alway. 


If  Jesus  Christ  is  a  god  — 

And  the  only  God,  —  I  swear 
I  will  follow  him  through  Heaven  and  hell 

The  earth,  the  sea  and  the  air." 

—  GILDER. 


Ill 


COALTON  BARRACKS 

WHEN  Bishop  Vaux  was  asked  to  act  as  an 
arbitrator  between  the  Old  Mogul  and  his 
employees,  it  developed  that  there  were  two 
distinct  elements  among  the  men;  those  who  were  anx 
ious  to  fight  the  Company,  and  those  who  wished  to 
live  in  peace.  Many  of  the  latter  were  men  with  fami 
lies  who  could  not  bear  the  risk  of  starvation  if  the 
strike  should  be  prolonged. 

While  the  wives  of  some  of  the  men  were  eager  for 
the  strike,  most  of  the  women  of  the  community 
strongly  opposed  it. 

Those  who  were  most  desirous  were  the  younger 
men  and  boys,  who  had  never  known  its  miseries. 

"  Now,  Micky,  darlin',  be  sure  ye  vote  agin  the 
sthrike  in  the  Union  to-night,"  Mrs.  Phelan  had  said. 

"  Sure,  Mother,  how  c'n  I  vote  agin  the  sthrike  an' 
me  the  prisident  iv  the  'Malgamated  Terrors  ?  " 

"  If  ye  do  vote  to  sthrike,  ye'll  find  iviry  sthitch  iv 
yer  clothes  in  the  toob  to-morra,"  concluded  Mrs.  Phe 
lan. 

Mick  secretly  determined  to  escape  the  consequences 
by  sleeping  in  his  clothes  that  night. 

Chief  among  those  who  were  opposed  to  the  strike 
was  a  big  kindly  Englishman  named  Hudderfield, 

43 


44     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

whom  everybody  called  Sunderland  Red.  Hudder- 
field  had  struggled  for  peace  until  the  Old  Mogul 
made  arbitration  impossible.  Then  he  went  out  and 
got  drunk.  Such  a  statement  as  this  would  not  be 
made  in  some  social  circles,  but  society  in  Coal- 
ton  is  not  squeamish  about  facts  of  this  sort.  It  was 
not  very  often  that  Sunderland  Red  did  get  drunk, 
but  when  he  did  his  debauch  was  likely  to  be  a  pro 
longed  one. 

He  was  rather  a  picturesque  figure  as  he  wavered 
down  the  street  through  the  snow.  His  gait  was  due 
rather  to  lameness  than  to  the  effects  of  the  liquor,  for 
Sunderland  Red  did  not  get  drunk  in  the  same  way  as 
other  men.  Neither  his  body  nor  his  brain  was  para 
lyzed  by  drink,  only  shaken  and  excited  into  abnormal 
activity. 

Although  well  along  in  middle  life,  his  magnificent 
strength  was  well  preserved.  His  hair  was  hardly 
touched  with  gray;  his  body  but  little  bent  with  the 
crushing  toil  and  hardship  of  the  mines.  His  face, 
when  he  was  clean  and  sober,  was  really  noble.  It  was 
almost  a  typical  English  face;  such  a  face  as  John 
Bunyan  might  have  worn,  before  his  conversion. 

He  was  still  dressed  in  his  mining  clothes.  His  out 
fit  consisted  of  blue  overalls,  dark  flannel  shirt  with 
the  sleeves  cut  off  at  the  elbows,  covered  with  a  loose 
coat  well  soaked  with  oil.  His  feet  were  shod  with 
heavy,  hob-nailed  shoes  and  his  legs  encased  in  a  pair 
of  flapping  boot  tops  like  a  pair  of  leggins.  Topping 
all  the  rest,  he  wore  a  heavy  oil-cloth  hat  that  some 
what  resembled  a  fireman's  helmet. 


COALTON  BARRACKS  45 

Two  persons  stood  watching  him  from  the  door  of 
Mark  Owens'  saloon  as  he  passed  out  the  street  lead 
ing  up  into  the  mountain, — the  saloon-keeper  himself 
and  Bruce  Hardin  a  handsome  young  patrician  in  cor 
duroy  suit  and  high-laced  surveyors'  boots.  There 
was  a  suspicion  of  redness  about  the  young  man's 
eyes  and  a  certain  hardness  about  the  lips  which  be 
tokens  the  steady  drinker.  Hardin  well  knew  that 
he  was  not  popular  with  the  men.  Before  the  strike 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  drop  into  Mark  Owens' 
saloon  when  passing  and  he  always  made  it  a  point 
to  treat  any  of  the  men  who  might  happen  to  be  there 
in  the  hope  of  gaining  favour.  Since  the  strike  they 
avoided  him,  but  he  still  continued  to  drop  into  the 
saloon. 

"  Sunderland  Red  is  pretty  well  corned  this  morn 
ing,"  he  remarked,  pointing  to  the  older  man  as  he 
struggled  up  the  steep  hillside.  "  A  pity  too,  for 
he's  a  good  fellow  when  he's  sober,"  and  the  handsome 
face  drew  itself  into  an  unpleasant  sneer  which  belied 
the  words. 

"  Any  man  who  drinks  whiskey  is  a  fool,"  observed 
the  saloon-keeper  sententiously.  "  I've  said  so  before 
and  I'll  say  so  again." 

"  Rather  hard  on  some  of  us,  Owens.  Hard  on 
yourself  too." 

"  I  never  took  but  two  drinks  of  whiskey  in  all  of 
my  life.  Any  man's  a  fool  who  drinks  the  stuff.  I 
always  said  so."  Strangely  enough  the  saloon-keeper 
spoke  the  truth  about  his  accustomed  warning's  against 
drink.  "  I've  said  so  to  old  Hudderfield.  He  knows 


46     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

he's  no  business  to  drink  rum.  But  it's  no  use. 
There's  the  result.  Makin'  a  fool  of  himself ! 

"  Now  take  a  man  like  Breece,"  Owens  went  on. 
"  He  ain't  reckless  about  drink,  like  Sunderland  Red 
is.  Takes  a  glass  o'  beer  or  so  reg'lar  an'  knows  when 
he's  got  enough.  Breece  is  quite  a  religious  sort  o' 
feller.  He  always  went  to  the  'Piscopal  church  so  long 
as  they  had  services  here.  He's  had  all  his  kids  bap 
tised  an*  promised  that  they  shall  fight  the  devil  an' 
all  his  works.  He  won't  go  to  this  here  Salvation 
Army  barracks  here,  'cause  he  says  they  ain't  reg'lar. 
But  he  always  says  his  prayers  every  night  'fore  he 
goes  to  bed,  unless  it  might  be  some  night  when  he 
was  kind  o'  sleepy  like  from  drink  an'  forgot  'em,  or 
fell  asleep  in  his  chair  an'  never  went  to  bed  at  all.  I 
think  the  Lord  oughtn't  to  blame  him  under  the  cir 
cumstances." 

But  however  interesting  Sunderland  Red's  short 
comings  or  Mark  Owens'  temperance  principles,  it 
was  not  to  be  expected  that  either  should  continue  to 
engross  public  attention  when  there  were  rumours 
afloat  that  the  troops  were  to  arrive  that  day.  There 
had  been  some  damage  done  by  the  strikers  to  the 
company's  property  on  the  day  before  and  the  sheriff 
and  his  deputies  had  been  driven  from  the  field.  Vio 
lence  had  prevailed  in  other  portions  of  the  region  and 
the  troops  were  already  gathered  in  their  armories,  so 
that  it  was  no  surprise  to  the  group  gathered  in 
Owens'  saloon  when  it  was  announced  positively  that 
the  troops  were  coming  that  day. 

"  There  ain't  no  use  to  bring  them  toy  soldiers  up 


COALTON  BARRACKS  47 

here  to  settle  this  strike,"  Owens  proclaimed.  "  It'll 
only  make  trouble.  If  any  soldiers  has  got  to  come, 
this  is  the  time  for  the  reg'lars.  If  the  companies 
can  organize  themselves  into  big  syndicates,  they'll 
find  that  the  men  can  'malgamate  theirselves  into  one 
big  union.  There's  going  to  be  trouble.  You'll 
see!;' 

No  doubt  Owens  was  right  about  the  matter.  The 
union  was  in  complete  control  of  the  town  of  Coalton 
without  striking  a  single  blow.  How  wisely  it  would 
use  its  power  was  yet  to  be  seen.  But  the  first  effect 
was  to  paralyze  all  business,  except  that  of  the  saloons. 
The  trouble  would  come  when  the  company  should  at 
tempt  to  start  its  works  with  imported  men. 

In  the  meantime  Sunderland  Red  continued  towards 
the  deserted  timber  road  which  led  into  the  moun 
tains.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  town  he  passed  an  old 
building  once  used  for  a  meat  shop.  In  front  there 
was  a  muslin  sign,  intended  to  be  lighted  up  at  night, 
bearing  the  words 


SALVATION  ARMY 
COALTON  BARRACKS 


"  Seems  to  me  I  remember  the  Salvation  Army  back 
in  Sunderland,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  My  sister  used 
to  want  me  to  go  with  her  and  I  wouldn't.  Never 
cared  much  for  religion  then.  Don't  seem  to  care 


48 

much  for  it  now.  Wonder  if  my  sister's  living  yet? 
It's  a  long-  time  since  I  heard  from  her.  Wonder  if 
she'd  have  anything  to  do  with  me  now?  I  ain't  fit 
to  be  with  folks;  not  the  way  I  am.  I'm  glad  I  haven't 
any  wife  or  folks.  I'll  go  out  here  in  the  mountains 
somewhere  and—  He  did  not  finish  the  sentence 

even  to  himself. 

Farther  up  the  hillside  he  toiled  through  the  snow, 
across  the  folds  of  the  barren  mountains.  The  tim 
ber  had  been  cut,  but  there  were  a  few  straggling  laurel 
bushes  left.  Otherwise  the  whole  landscape  was  a 
great  white  waste.  Sometimes  he  rushed  down  the 
sides  of  a  ravine,  but  for  the  most  part  he  climbed 
higher  and  higher. 

For  a  little  time  the  sun  shone  out;  then  the  sky 
grew  leaden  and  threatened  more  snow.  But  he  did 
not  mind  the  cold.  Occasionally  he  sat  down  and  once 
or  twice  he  cried  aloud.  At  last  he  turned  and  started 
straight  for  the  village. 

On  that  very  morning,  in  order  that  he  might  know 
the  condition  of  affairs,  the  colonel  of  the  regiment 
which  was  to  be  sent  into  the  region  of  Coalton  had 
detailed  three  of  his  lieutenants  for  secret  service  work. 
For  one  day  they  had  been  in  touch  with  the  mine 
owners  and  now  they  were  going  through  the  Anthrax 
Valley.  But  they  discovered  nothing  more  than  bla 
tant  talkers  about  the  saloons  until  just  before  dark, 
when  they  saw  from  a  distance  a  crowd  of  men  pass 
ing  behind  the  dump  of  the  Hatton  breaker,  some  of 
them  carrying  bags.  Hastily  dispatching  one  of  their 
number  for  help,  the  two  young  officers  hurried  to  the 


COALTON  BARRACKS  49 

dump  only  to  find  that  the  men  had  disappeared.  Vi 
sions  of  dynamite  and  damage  to  the  company's  prop 
erty  were  pictured  to  their  minds. 

An  Irishman  standing  before  the  door  of  a  dis 
mantled  freight  car  at  the  foot  of  the  dump  took  his 
pipe  from  his  mouth  and  politely  wished  them  good 
evening. 

"  Which  way  did  those  men  turn  who  passed  here 
about  fifteen  minutes  ago?" 

"  Sure,  and  no  min  did  I  see  pass  here  at  all,  at 
all !  " 

"  There  was  quite  a  crowd  of  them.  Some  of  them 
were  carrying  bags.  Do  you  know  what  they  were 
doing?" 

"  Is  it  bags  ye  say?  Sure  they  were  doin'  nothin', 
so  long  as  they  were  carryin'  their  bags;  but  by  this 
toime  they'll  be  fightin'  their  cocks  at  all.  Which  way 
did  ye  say  they  wint?  Sure  it's  a  dirty  trick  they've 
played  me  not  to  tell  me  whin  they  had  a  cock  fight 
to  pull  off,  an'  me  the  bist  judge  iv  a  fightin'  cock  in 
the  howl  county  iv  Anthracite !  "  Casey's  anger  was 
evidently  so  genuine  that  they  could  not  doubt  that  he 
was  telling  them  the  truth  about  the  men  with  the  bags. 

"  Sure  ye  don't  know  which  way  they  wint  at  all  ? 
Cum  wid  me,  gintlemin'  an'  if  ye'll  show  me  fware  ye 
seen  thim  last  we'll  soon  cum  up  wid  thim.  An'  if 
ye've  got  but  a  little  money  to  bet,  I'll  put  ye  nixt  to 
a  sure  thing  in  fightin'  cocks  fware  ye  kin  aisy  double 
yer  money." 

While  these  things  were  taking  place,  Sunderland 
Red  was  making  his  way  wearily  back  toward  Coalton. 


50    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

It  was  long  after  dark  when  he  reached  the  town. 
There  were  lights  now  in  the  Salvation  Army  barracks 
and  he  went  in.  A  meeting  was  in  progress  and  a 
woman's  voice  was  heard  in  prayer.  Then  they  sang 
the  hymn,  "  Whiter  Than  Snow." 

There  were  but  a  handful  of  people  present;  three 
or  four  women,  with  patient  faces  and  toil-hardened 
hands,  a  half-grown  boy,  two  or  three  children  who 
were  cuddled  against  their  mothers  to  keep  warm  and 
a  half-silly  Hungarian,  known  only  as  Yawcup,  who 
always  attended  every  sort  of  meeting.  Until  Sunder- 
land  Red  entered,  there  were  no  other  persons  present, 
except  those  named  and  the  leader,  Brother  Smiler. 
At  that  time  Brother  Smiler  was  not  so  well  known  as 
he  has  since  become,  but  he  had  all  the  force  and  fire 
which  have  since  made  him  so  famous  in  fighting  the 
battles  of  the  Lord. 

Brother  Smiler  rose  and  began  to  speak  rapidly.  "  I 
suppose  this  is  the  last  meeting  in  Coalton  Barracks," 
he  said. 

"  I  left  this  matter  with  the  Lord;  but  I  ain't  tryin' 
to  put  no  blame  on  Him.  I've  been  to  every  place  in 
town  to-day,  every  saloon  in  all  the  Patches,  tryin'  to 
sell  War  Cry's,  and  I  didn't  sell  one.  I've  invited 
every  man  I  saw  to  come  to  this  meeting  to-night, — 
and  they  ain't  here.  I  told  the  Lord  that  if  He  wanted 
me  to  stay,  I'd  stay ;  but  He  must  give  me  a  sign.  The 
Commander  is  writing  to  me  to  come  to  New  York 
where  he'd  give  me  a  recruiting  station.  It  looks  as 
if  nothing  could  be  done  here  until  this  strike's  over. 
Seems  as  if  the  men  in  this  town  don't  care  nothing 


COALTON  BARRACKS  51 

for  their  soul's  salvation,  but  just  nothing1  but  strike, 
strike. 

"  O,  God,"  he  cried  vehemently,  "  if  the  men  and  old 
Mr.  Hatton  would  only  hear  the  message  of  Jesus 
Christ !  They're  all  talking  about  the  strike  and  their 
rights  and  they  won't  either  party  hear  the  Gospel 
message.  I'm  afraid  there'll  be  trouble  and  bloodshed 
before  this  thing's  settled.  I  wanted  to  stay  right 
here  until  it  was  over.  I  asked  the  Lord  to  give  me  a 
sign  and  He's  done  it;  but  it  ain't  the  sign  I  wanted. 
I  asked  Him  to  fill  this  place  with  men  to-night  and  to 
save  souls.  Instead  He's  sent  me  the  tickets  to  New 
York,  and  the  men  are  in  the  saloons.  O,  Lord,  save 
the  souls  of  these  men  here  in  the  mines !  "  His  voice 
rose  to  an  agonizing  pitch  and  then  sank  into  silence. 

"  We  haven't  had  much  to  eat  in  the  last  few 
weeks,"  he  went  on.  As  he  said  this  the  shabby  form 
of  the  speaker's  wife  seemed  to  shrink  under  her  blue 
and  red  uniform  and  the  two  children  clung  a  little 
closer  to  her  side.  "I  ain't  complaining  about  it; 
when  the  men  are  on  strike,  they  haven't  much  to 
give.  We  were  willing  to  stay  and  starve  with  the 
rest  of  you  people  here,  if  it  was  the  Lord's  will.  But 
the  Commander  says,  come  to  New  York,  where  the 
work  is  waiting  for  somebody  to  take  it  up.  So  I 
guess  this  is  the  last  meeting  we'll  have  here  in  the 
Coalton  Barracks.  The  Lord  will  raise  up  somebody 
to  carry  on  the  work  to  the  glory  of  His  name;  but  I 
did  wish  I  might  see  it  when  the  blessing  came! " 

Then  his  speech  turned  into  a  prayer  for  the  people 
of  Coalton,  broken,  pleading,  argumentative  almost. 


52     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

When  he  ceased,  Sunderland  Red  rose.  '  You  all 
know  who  I  am,"  he  said  simply.  '  You  all  know 
what  kind  of  a  life  I've  lived.  I've  been  on  a  tear  for 
a  week  and  I  came  home  this  morning  because  I  had  no 
more  money.  It  was  just  before  breakfast  that  I  got 
in  and  I  was  feeling  pretty  rocky.  I  didn't  want  any 
thing  to  eat,  so  I  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  fell  asleep 
for  a  while.  Pretty  soon  along  came  Teed  to  me — 
that  was  the  little  child  of  my  boarding  mistress — and 
she  says  '  Why,  Red,  you  look  bad  this  morning. 
Teedie  will  tidy  you  up  a  bit.'  Then  she  climbed  into 
my  lap  and  combed  my  hair  and  she  brought  me  a 
towel  and  washed  my  face.  And  then  she  said,  '  Why 
don't  you  pay  me,  Red?'  meaning  that  I  should  kiss 
her.  But  I  couldn't  kiss  her,  being  the  way  I  was.  So 
I  pretended  I  didn't  understand  her  and  gave  her  an 
English  penny-piece  that  I  always  carried  in  my 
pocket,  which  was  all  I  had.  But  it  hurt  her  feelings 
that  I  wouldn't  kiss  her  the  same  as  I  always  did  and 
she  went  into  the  front  room  and  said  to  her  mother, 
'  Red  don't  love  Teed  any  more,'  so  grieved  like  as  if 
she  was  fit  to  cry. 

"  I  couldn't  stand  that,  so  I  put  on  my  shoes  and 
my  boot-tops  again  and  went  out.  You  know  how  it 
snowed  last  night.  Well,  I  went  out  on  the  mountains 
where  the  snow  lay  on  everything.  It  was  so  white 
and  still-like,  that  I  could  hardly  bear  it.  It  was  all 
so  white  and  I  was  in  my  dirty  clothes,  the  same  as  I 
am  now.  I  felt  so  bad — not  fit  to  be  with  folks.  I 
thought  I  would  just  go  farther  and  farther  and  lie 


COALTON  BARRACKS  53 

down  in  the  snow  and  never  go  back  where  Teed  or 
anybody  would  be  the  worse  for  me.  All  the  time 
it  kept  coming  to  me  just  like  my  sister  used  to  sing 
when  I  was  a  little  chap  in  Sunderland,  '  Whiter  than 
Snow.'  And  I  said,  '  No !  not  for  me,'  and  I  went  on. 
I  came  to  the  top  of  a  steep  ledge  of  rock  where  they 
might  think  I  had  stumbled,  but  I  was  afraid  to  fling 
myself  over;  I  was  afraid  of  God.  I  went  on  all  day. 
Sometimes  I  ran.  Sometimes  I  sat  down.  Sometimes 
I  turned  back  for  a  while.  But  all  the  time  I  could 
hear  the  words,  '  Whiter  than  snow.'  And  I  called 
out  '  It's  a  lie !  It's  a  lie !  It's  not  for  me ! ' 

"  I  ain't  drunk  now.  At  least  the  liquor's  dying  out 
in  me.  I  know  what  I'm  saying.  I — I  want  to  be  a 
better  man.  If  the  Lord  Jesus  will  take  me,  I  wish  He 
would, — the  same  as  you  said.  And  I'll  take  Him  and 
be  a  better  man.  I've  been  a  pretty  wicked  fellow,  but 
I'm  willing  to  do  whatever  He  wants  of  me." 

One  other  interested  auditor  there  was,  although  he 
was  not  within  the  building.  Young  Lieutenant 
Warne  who  was  reconnoitering  for  the  Colonel  of  the 
Twenty-fifth,  had  seen  the  lights  in  the  building.  Com 
ing  up  from  the  rear,  the  two  young  officers  stood  for 
a  few  minutes  while  Smiler  made  his  address. 

"  Come  along,"  said  the  second  officer,  "  we've  noth 
ing  coming  to  us  here." 

He  moved  away  from  the  building,  but  Warne  still 
lingered  while  Sunderland  Red  told  his  story.  To 
him  it  seemed  as  if  he  did  have  business  there.  The 
intense  earnestness  of  both  these  men,  the  poverty- 


54     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

stricken  bareness  of  the  place,  the  pathetic  wish  on  the 
part  of  each  to  do  something  for  the  Master,  gripped 
him  strangely. 

"  Come  on,  Warne,"  said  the  second  officer  pro 
fanely.  "  Don't  be  a  fool!  It's  only  a  dashed  Metho 
dist  meeting ! " 


A  TOY  SOLDIER 


/  am  the  master  of  my  fate, 
I  am  the  captain  of  my  soul." 

— HENLEY. 


IV 

A  TOY  SOLDIER 

IN  the  background  a  vast  mass,  black,  deformed, 
menacing.  At  the  foot  of  the  sombre  culm 
dump,  a  spot  of  blue  like  a  soldier's  overcoat. 
In  the  foreground  the  newly-fallen  March  snow  was 
tracked  as  if  by  men  running.  Somehow,  the  blue 
figure  and  the  black  dump  seemed  to  belong  together, 
like  complementary  colours. 

Except  for  the  figure  in  blue,  the  path  along  the 
dump  was  empty  for  the  first  time  during  the  day. 
Five  minutes  before  the  dump  had  been  swarming  with 
people.  Usually  there  was  hardly  an  hour  during  the 
daylight  when  it  was  not  occupied  by  women  and  chil 
dren  picking  fragments  of  coal  from  among  the  culm. 

All  that  morning  a  woman  with  a  babe  bound  to 
her  hip  by  her  shawl  had  toiled  with  frenzied  haste  to 
fill  her  sacks.  The  soldiers  were  coming !  The  rumour 
of  their  approach  filled  every  heart  with  a  fierce  de 
termination  to  fight.  In  order  that  she  might  be  free 
to  fight  she  must  have  coal. 

"  Yawcup,"  she  screamed  in  the  Magyar  tongue, 
"  why  will  you  not  help  me  to  carry  home  these  sacks 
of  coal  to-day?  The  gendarmes  will  be  here  and  then 
we  can  pick  no  more  coal  to  keep  the  children  warm." 

57 


58     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

But  Yawcup  only  shifted  his  pipe  and  passed  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  saloon. 

A  forlorn  creature  she  was,  this  little  Hungarian 
Katya,  with  a  figure  that  might  once  have  been  petite, 
but  now  had  grown  stocky.  In  spite  of  the  cold  she 
was  but  poorly  clad.  Her  bare,  blackened  feet  show 
ing  beneath  her  draggled  skirt  added  the  last  touch  of 
misery  to  her  pathetic  figure.  Her  face  had  once 
shown  a  sort  of  childish,  care-free  prettiness,  but  it 
was  pinched  and  eager  now. 

Then  the  soldiers  had  come  and  the  frightened 
mother,  like  some  wild  creature  of  the  woods,  had  hur 
ried  her  brood  of  children  from  the  dump  to  her  cabin, 
for  fear  of  violence. 

The  thin  blue  haze  of  powder  smoke  had  not  yet 
risen  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  of  culm  before  the 
crowds  which  thronged  the  path  and  the  dump  had 
scattered,  the  soldiers  for  reinforcements,  the  strikers 
— well,  they  themselves  hardly  knew  why. 

Both  sides  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  figure  in 
blue.  The  towering  dump  seemed  almost  to  threaten 
with  extinction  the  unimportant  spot  of  colour  at  its 
base.  A  few  tons  of  coal  dust  moved  a  few  feet  from 
the  lowering  bank  would  bury  the  dead,  if  the  man 
were  dead,  and  remove  all  the  marks  of  bloody  conflict. 

Nothing  is  more  striking  in  the  anthracite  coal 
regions  than  these  sombre  mountains  of  black  waste 
which  often  cover  acres  of  ground.  Black  spots  they 
are  in  the  landscape,  for  except  during  the  bitterest 
weather  the  snow  melts  as  it  falls  on  the  towering  sides 
of  the  heap.  Piled  up  by  the  machinery  in  the  break- 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  59 

ers,  they  often  hide  the  breaker  itself  from  view;  so 
that  the  wives  of  the  miners  can  no  more  see  their 
children  working  in  the  breaker  but  a  short  distance 
away  from  the  houses  than  they  can  see  their  husbands 
when  they  are  at  work  a  mile  away  under  ground. 

The  culm  dump  is  the  squalid  prospect  of  thousands 
of  miners'  homes.  So  near  to  some  that  even  the  sky 
seems  to  be  shut  out  of  sight ;  so  near  to  many  others 
that  every  corner  of  the  house  is  soiled  with  the  grime 
which  blows  through  the  cracks  of  the  doors  and  win 
dows  and  makes  cleanliness  of  clothing  and  person  im 
possible;  near  enough  also,  if  the  giant  dump  should 
be  on  fire,  for  the  stifling  sulphur  gas  to  bleach  all 
colour  from  the  faces  of  the  children. 

The  cabin  of  the  little  Hungarian  mother  stood 
opposite  to  the  place  where  the  fallen  soldier  lay. 
When  there  was  no  further  danger  of  violence  the 
woman  stole  to  the  dismal  front  room  and  looked  long 
at  the  hulk  in  blue.  It  was  not  a  handsome  figure, 
lying  there  in  a  shapeless  heap.  The  shoulders  which 
had  been  so  square  had  sunk  across  the  knees  as  he 
lay;  the  head  had  disappeared  in  the  folds  of  the  over 
coat.  One  arm  stretched  out  rigidly,  showing  a  white 
wrist  and  hand.  But  for  this  hand  there  would  have 
been  no  certain  mark  to  show  that  the  blue  hulk  was 
human.  The  man  had  fallen  in  his  tracks  when  the 
bullet  struck  him,  fallen  like  a  lump  of  putty. 

There  had  been  strikes  before  in  the  anthracite  coal 
regions  and  the  militia  had  been  called  upon  to  pre 
serve  the  peace  not  once  nor  twice;  but  there  had  never 
been  a  strike  so  momentous  as  the  one  which  came  at 


60    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  end  of  the  great  era  of  consolidation  and  before  the 
hard  times  began.  During  that  period  of  good  times 
the  great  coal  and  carrying  companies  had  formed 
enormous  syndicates,  while  the  men  had  amalgamated 
themselves  into  one  immense  labour  union. 

When  the  soldiers  marched  in  that  morning  Owens 
had  stood  haranguing  a  crowd  from  the  steps  of  his 
saloon. 

"  You  don't  have  to  be  afraid  of  these  toy  soldiers," 
he  said.  "  They  won't  hurt  you.  Their  officers  are  a 
set  of  dudes,  the  sons  of  rich  men.  They  don't  know 
nothin'  about  fightin'.  An'  the  men  in  the  ranks  are 
your  friends.  Just  stand  up  to  them  an'  they'll  run." 

The  young  lieutenant  in  charge  of  the  squad  moved 
quietly  a  few  steps  nearer  to  the  saloon.  Owens's 
voice  was  plainly  audible  now. 

"  It  stands  to  reason  that  these  little  blue  devils 
won't  fight,"  the  saloon-keeper  was  saying.  "  Why 
there  ain't  a  man  of  'em  in  the  ranks  but  what  has 
got  some  cousin  in  the  union.  When  it  comes  to  the 
pinch  they  won't  hurt  you.  Knock  the  officers  out  an' 
the  men  " — 

"  Sergeant,"  said  the  young  lieutenant  sharply,  "  ar 
rest  that  man  on  the  steps.  Close  his  saloon  and  seal 
it.  Disperse  the  crowd  and  set  a  guard  at  the  door." 

The  men  moved  off  sullenly  as  the  file  of  soldiers 
approached,  but  the  numbers  grew  greater  rather  than 
fewer  as  they  moved  down  the  street  toward  the  Hat- 
ton  breaker  and  dump. 

But  Owens  had  spoken  the  truth  after  all.  It  was 
a  case  where  the  regulars  were  needed.  The  regulars 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  61 

whom  nobody  loved  and  everybody  hated;  whom  no 
body  despised  and  everybody  feared;  who  had  no 
cousins  and  no  favourites;  who  belonged  to  no  lodges 
and  joined  no  labour  unions;  who  received  no  boxes 
from  home  containing  roast  chicken  and  jelly  cake 
and  who  carried  no  wreaths  on  their  bayonets. 

But  the  militia  had  sworn  to  uphold  the  constitu 
tion  of  Pennsylvania  and  they  were  ready  to  die  rather 
than  to  break  their  solemn  oath — unless  indeed  they 
should  be  smitten  with  sudden  panic  and  run  away. 

At  four  o'clock  the  first  skirmish  was  over.  The 
path  was  cleared  of  soldiers  and  the  crest  of  the  dump 
free  from  strikers.  The  field  was  empty,  except  for 
the  motionless  figure  in  blue  and  the  little  Hungarian 
woman. 

The  melted  snow  water  had  partly  revived  the  officer 
and  the  woman  was  ready  to  minister  to  his  needs.  It 
was  painful  work  for  the  man  to  struggle  back  to  con 
sciousness.  How  had  it  all  happened?  Where  were 
the  boys  that  they  had  left  him  there  alone?  Why 
could  he  not  move? 

Presently  the  events  of  the  day  began  to  come  back 
to  him.  He  lived  them  over  again,  point  by  point. 
They  were  hurrying  along  the  edge  of  the  culm  dump 
again,  so  as  to  drive  the  strikers  from  the  top  of  the 
bank.  The  boys  did  not  relish  the  job  greatly  and  he 
was  urging  them  on.  He  remembered  one  man  par 
ticularly,  who  stood  at  the  left  of  the  column,  who 
was  especially  sullen.  He  would  get  himself  into 
trouble  if  he  were  not  more  ready  to  obey. 

The  officer  could  not  quite  remember  what  happened 


62     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

next.  The  strikers  had  swarmed  over  the  crest  and 
out  of  the  gullies  between  the  folds  of  the  pile  of 
culm.  There  had  been  a  hailstorm  of  stones  and  here 
and  there  a  pistol  shot.  He  had  shouted  to  steady  the 
men  but  the  strikers  were  raising  pandemonium  above. 
He  had  tried  to  bring  the  men  together,  but  the  black 
mass  of  culm  seemed  to  pour  out  hundreds  of  men 
and  boys  with  stones  and  weapons,  bent  on  separating 
the  men  on  the  left  from  the  main  body  of  the  militia. 
Then  somebody  shouted  "  Fire!  "  There  was  a  scatter 
ing  volley  and  then  the  soldiers  ran, — yes,  ran !  There 
was  only  a  handful  and  the  strikers  numbered  hun 
dreds.  That  was  the  time  the  officer  had  gone  down 
in  his  tracks. 

While  he  struggled  to  recall  these  events,  his  un 
injured  hand  sought  to  find  the  wound  which  was 
soaking  his  clothing  with  blood.  It  still  felt  so  numbed 
that  he  could  not  tell  where  he  was  hit  nor  how  badly, 
until  suddenly  he  realised  that  the  principal  trouble 
was  below  the  shoulder  blade  and  that  there  was  an 
other  hole  in  the  armpit  and  one  in  the  arm.  When 
this  fact  dawned  on  him,  the  young  lieutenant  began 
to  hate  himself  and  almost  to  wish  that  the  bullet  had 
gone  a  little  lower,  so  that  he  might  have  died. 

Wounded  in  the  back!  Then  he  must  have  been 
running  away  too.  He  strove  in  vain  to  recall  his  last 
act  before  he  fell,  but  now  everything  seemed  con 
fused,  unreal.  He  could  think  of  nothing  but  the 
ignominy  of  his  wound.  In  reality  there  was  no  more 
feeling  in  it  than  there  had  been  before,  but  it  seemed 
to  burn,  until  the  agony  was  unendurable.  He  no 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  63 

longer  wished  for  the  rescue  party;  in  fact  he  dreaded 
to  have  the  men  return  to  find  him  wounded  like  a 
craven. 

Then  his  future  rose  before  him.  This  wound 
changed  everything.  He  had  thought  to  be  a  candi 
date  for  orders.  He,  who  was  wounded  in  the  back! 
A  coward  who  could  not  even  face  a  mob  of  angry 
men !  Where  were  the  lofty  ideals  of  his  youth  ?  Had 
his  ideals  been  worthy  of  the  name?  Only  the  night 
before  when  it  became  certain  that  there  would  be  a 
clash  between  the  troops  and  the  strikers  he  had  written 
to  Bishop  Vaux  telling  of  his  decision  to  take  orders. 
He  was  glad  that  the  letter  was  not  yet  mailed ! 

While  consciousness  lasted  he  prayed — not  for 
rescue  as  he  had  before  he  realized  the  shame  of  his 
wound,  but  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  that  the  test 
had  come  to  him  before  he  was  irrevocably  committed 
to  the  service  of  the  church.  If  he  was  such  a  coward, 
he  rejoiced  that  he  should  never  have  the  opportunity 
to  disgrace  the  cause  of  Christ.  Yet  even  in  the  midst 
of  his  half-coherent  prayer,  he  found  himself  asking 
that  cowardice  should  be  removed  from  him  and  be 
seeching  for  one  more  chance. 

This  whole  matter  of  entering  the  ministry  had  been 
such  a  weary,  perplexing  struggle.  At  first  he  had 
easily  drifted  into  the  idea  because  his  parents  wished 
it.  Later  his  sturdy  young  manhood  revolted  from 
a  ready-made  career  through  another's  wish,  and  he 
had  definitely  resolved  not  to  take  orders.  Still  later 
when  Helen  Vaux  would  have  gone  abroad  as  a  mis 
sionary,  he  canvassed  the  matter  again,  wistfully  de- 


64    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

siring  to  come  to  a  different  conclusion.  But  even 
with  the  possibility  of  wedding  the  woman  he  loved, 
he  was  true  to  his  decision  not  to  take  orders. 

Then  had  come  the  strike  and  the  call  for  the  militia. 
In  the  performance  of  his  duty  to  the  State  during  the 
winter,  he  had  come  into  touch  with  misery  and 
degradation  more  desperate  than  any  he  had  imagined 
to  exist.  While  the  poverty  of  the  people  weighed 
on  his  <spirit,  he  could  not  escape  from  the  thought 
that  their  spiritual  need  was  still  more  desperate.  He 
grew  more  restless  until  at  last  he  had  written  to  the 
bishop  that  he  must  offer  himself  to  the  church. 

And  now  had  come  this  shameful  wound.  He  was 
a  coward!  Not  fit  for  the  Master's  service.  The 
wound  in  the  back  was  the  sign. 

Then  there  was  another  period  when  the  cold  was 
forgotten  and  the  sting  of  his  wound  was  eased,  a 
period  of  blissful  unconsciousness,  broken  all  too  soon 
by  the  feeling  that  he  was  being  dragged  over  rough 
ground  as  if  by  fiends  that  were  bent  on  torture. 
Then  liquor  was  poured  between  his  teeth  and  pres 
ently  the  young  officer  knew  that  he  was  being  warmed 
and  chafed  by  a  woman's  hands — rough,  heavy  hands 
they  were,  but  still  a  woman's. 

"  T'ank  Gott!  he  open  his  eyes  once  again.  It's 
Mr.  Heinrich.  Can't  you  speak  to  me,  Mr.  Heinrich  ? 
Keep  back  there  children.  Don't  you  know  who  it  is, 
Mr.  Heinrich?" 

"  Why,  yes,"  he  said  slowly.  "  I  know  your  voice, 
but  I  can't—  Why — why  it's  little  Katya!  Why 
Katya,  it's  a  long  time  since  I  saw  you.  Not  since 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  65 

you  moved  away.  We  didn't  know  what  had  become 
of  you.  Where's  Yawcup?  " 

"  Yawcup?  Pst!"  with  a  contemptuous  gesture 
which  spilled  the  liquor.  "  Out  somewhere  with  the 
strikers !  " 

Ah  yes!  The  strikers;  he  remembered  now  what  it 
was  that  made  his  shoulder  ache  so.  For  the  moment, 
until  Katya's  word  about  the  strikers  had  recalled  him 
to  the  present,  Lieutenant  Warne  was  back  in  his  boy 
hood  again.  How  often  he  had  listened  to  the  story 
of  little  Katya's  trials. 

She  was  a  pathetic  little  figure;  yet  always  so  cheer 
ful.  Nobody  had  ever  to  bear  so  many  hardships  as 
little  Katya,  yet  nobody  was  ever  so  utterly  uncrushed 
by  them.  Her  unfailing  reply  when  one  asked  her 
how  she  was  getting  along  was  a  bird-like  chirp,  "  Oh, 
goot !  "  accompanied  by  a  most  ecstatic  smile.  Very 
likely  she  did  not  know  that  the  English  language  con 
tained  any  other  form  of  response,  for  when  the  hus 
band  of  her  youth,  who  had  brought  her  as  a  bride  to 
America,  was  burned  to  death  in  the  mines  by  an  ex 
plosion  of  gas,  she  had  proclaimed  her  cheerfulness 
in  sorrow  by  her  reply  to  a  neighbour's  sympathy  by 
the  response  that  she  was  "  gettin'  along  goot !  " 

Then  Katya  forsook  the  mines  for  the  city,  where 
young  Warne's  mother  had  taken  her  under  her  pro 
tection.  After  her  baby  was  born  she  became  the 
laundress  at  the  Warne  household.  Then  after  a  few 
months  she  had  declared  herself  about  to  marry  again, 
a  man  of  her  sister's  choice.  The  Warnes  had  done  all 
in  their  power  to  dissuade  her  from  the  match;  partly 


66     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

in  horror  over  the  recent  bereavement  and  partly  be 
cause  Yawcup  seemed  utterly  unfit  to  assume  the  cares 
of  a  family.  Katya  had  only  one  reply  to  all  their 
arguments;  "  Single  woman,  she  no  goot.  She  must 
have  a  man  to  take  of  her  the  care.  In  my  country, 
no  single  woman,  all  married."  Even  Mr.  Warne's 
authority  was  invoked  in  vain.  "  You  big  boss,  no 
can  understand.  Missy  boss,  she  got  you;  single 
woman  no  goot." 

So  Katya  and  Yawcup  were  married  in  due  time. 
Before  many  days  they  quarrelled  violently  because 
Katya  could  not  find  more  places  to  wash,  so  that 
Yawcup  might  be  supported  in  greater  luxury.  She 
still  worked  for  the  Warnes,  although  Mrs.  Warne 
had  declared  that  she  should  not  do  so,  if  she  con 
tinued  to  allow  that  worthless  Yawcup  to  abuse  her. 
But  Katya's  cheerfulness  never  failed  her.  She  con 
tinued  to  hide  her  bruises  and  to  wash  the  family  linen 
of  the  Warnes.  It  is  not  usually  considered  an  amus 
ing  experience  when  the  husband  forms  the  habit  of 
beating  his  wife;  but  Katya's  cheerfulness  almost 
made  it  seem  so.  One  sad  day  Yawcup,  who  was 
theoretically  the  bread-winner  and  as  such  the  lord 
and  master  of  the  family,  conceived  the  idea  that  they 
could  do  better  if  they  should  move  into  the  coal  fields. 

Then  the  family  drifted,  chasing  the  phantom  of 
"  good  work  "  from  one  mining  settlement  to  another, 
each  succeeding  home  being  a  shade  more  forlorn  and 
cheerless  than  the  last.  The  tenant  who  becomes  no 
torious  for  his  belief  that  it  is  cheaper  to  move  than 
to  pay  the  last  month's  rent  does  not  have  his  choice 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  67 

of  houses,  not  even  of  company  houses  remodelled  from 
abandoned  mule  barns.  But  Katya's  brave  heart  never 
failed  her  and  life  was  always  "  goot  "  with  her,  even 
when  they  moved  into  the  forlorn  shanty  at  the  foot 
of  the  huge  culm  dump. 

Warne  was  recalled  from  his  review  by  a  cry  from 
one  of  Katya's  children,  telling  in  the  Magyar  tongue 
that  the  strikers  were  returning.  The  house  swarmed 
with  children,  babies  whom  Warne  had  never  seen 
before.  When  Katya  had  driven  all  but  the  youngest 
to  the  inner  room,  Warne  improved  the  interval  of 
comparative  quiet  to  ask  how  things  were  going  with 
her  family. 

"  Oh,  we  get  along  goot,"  she  said.  "  Steve  he  get 
a  big  boy  now.  He  can  work  in  the  breaker.  Yawcup 
he  no  goot;  he  no  work  mooch." 

Now  it  is  a  delicate  matter  to  ask  a  wife  whether 
her  husband  is  still  in  the  habit  of  getting  drunk,  and 
whether  he  still  indulges  in  the  habit  of  beating  her, 
whether  drunk  or  sober;  but  the  world  in  which  Katya 
lived  is  not  squeamish  about  answering  questions  that 
involve  such  details.  So  when  Warne  had  delicately 
inquired  how  m'atters  stood  'between  husband  and 
wife,  Katya  said:  "Poouf!  That  no  make  mooch  ac 
count.  Some  one  day  he  beat  me  little;  some  anoder 
day,  he  no  beat.  I  jump  aroundt  quvick.  I  no  stand 
still  any  more.  He  no  can  come  oop.  He  no  can  hurt 
— mooch.  He  no  work;  no  get  strong — mooch. — How 
soon  gendarmes  come  back?  " 

Before  the  soldiers  with  reinforcements  and  with 
the  surgeon  came  back  to  the  culm  pile,  the  strikers 


68     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

had  gathered  again  in  force.  The  regulars  would 
have  foreseen  and  prevented  this.  It  was  a  very  dif 
ferent  sort  of  crowd  from  that  which  first  faced  the 
militia.  The  first  crowd  had  been  sullen  and  self- 
distrustful;  the  second  mob  was  arrogantly  determined 
that  the  soldiers  should  not  gain  possession  of  the 
dump  which  was  the  vantage  ground  and  the  key  to 
the  possession  of  the  breaker.  After  the  first  shot 
had  been  fired  and  the  strikers  had  chased  the  militia 
the  men  seemed  to  be  possessed  with  the  courage 
of  demons.  The  yells  that  at  first  proclaimed  their 
victory  now  sounded  their  defiance.  The  mob  had 
grown  fourfold  and  was  now  swaggering  back  to 
wards  the  dump  drunk  with  the  sense  of  its  own 
prowess.  When  the  militia  should  return  with  re 
inforcements,  the  captain  would  find  'his  work  cut 
out  for  him. 

The  ruling  passion  with  most  of  the  peasant  immi 
grants  who  come  to  America  is  fear.  Perhaps  it  is 
because  they  find  themselves  without  the  protection 
of  a  strong  paternal  government,  or  perhaps  it  is  the 
natural  reaction  after  the  break  which  has  separated 
them  from  customs  and  institutions  centuries  old. 
Whatever  may  be  the  cause,  fear  prompts  nine  men 
out  of  ten  to  provide  themselves  with  some  weapon  of 
defence.  But  whoever  else  the  foreigner  fears,  he 
does  not  fear  the  police  and  the  militia.  Did  he  not 
help  to  elect  the  constable?  As  for  the  militia,  are  not 
the  strikers  themselves  as  well  armed  as  these  sol 
diers? 

It  was  most  unfortunate,  therefore,  that  some  one 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  69 

should  have  suggested  that  the  rabble  should  go  across 
to  the  little  Hungarian  home  in  order  to  exult  over 
the  fallen  foe  in  the  person  of  Lieutenant  Warne. 
Katya  heard  their  shouts.  Having  packed  her  children 
into  the  closet,  she  rushed  to  the  door.  As  soon  as 
she  divined  their  purpose,  she  ran  out  of  the  gate 
and  down  the  road  to  meet  the  mob.  For  a  few 
minutes  she  delayed  the  leaders  at  the  corner  of  the 
lot.  The  path  was  narrow  here,  being  bounded  on 
the  one  side  by  the  Anthrax  creek  and  on  the  other 
by  a  stone  wall  which  prevented  the  culm  dump  from 
sliding  down  and  burying  the  roadway.  Finding  that 
the  men  were  determined  to  disregard  her  pleas,  and 
push  past  her  into  the  lot  and  into  the  house,  Katya 
seized  a  long-handled  shovel  which  lay  by  her  coal 
shed  and  scrambled  to  the  top  of  the  retaining  wall 
of  the  dump. 

For  months  fire  had  been  eating  into  the  heart  of 
the  dump  at  this  point.  Into  this  burning  mass  of 
coal  dirt  Katya  thrust  her  shovel  and  before  the  leaders 
could  pass  into  the  gate,  indeed  before  they  realized 
her  purpose,  she  had  scattered  the  burning  culm  and 
cinder  in  their  faces.  Fortunately  for  her  the  wind 
whirled  down  the  narrow  valley  in  such  a  direction 
that  the  ashes  and  the  stifling  gases  which  her  busy 
shovel  set  free  were  carried  away  from  the  wall  into 
the  eyes  and  lungs  of  the  crowd.  Like  a  stubby  god 
dess  of  fury  she  stood,  inconsequently  beating  the  air 
with  her  shovel  and  hurling  Hungarian  defiance  at  the 
mob  of  strikers. 

It  was  her  hour  of  triumph.     The  men  in  the  rear 


70    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

shrieked  with  delight,  as  those  in  front  sputtered 
angrily  for  a  few  minutes.  While  those  in  front 
backed  off,  attempting  to  rid  the  creases  of  their  cloth 
ing  and  their  hats  of  the  burning  cinders,  the  mob, 
moved  by  one  of  those  sudden  inexplicable  spasms 
of  humour  which  often  sweep  over  a  company  of 
people,  good  naturedly  fell  back  to  the  end  of  the 
dump. 

All  but  one  man.  Yawcup,  considerably  under  the 
influence  of  liquor,  stood  forth  from  the  crowd  to 
bring  Katya  to  her  senses.  As  for  Katya,  her  divine 
fury  seemed  to  forsake  her. 

"  Make  the  shovel  back,"  Yawcup  shouted  in  Eng 
lish. 

Katya  obeyed,  meekly  enough.  Yawcup  followed 
her  retreat  with  certain  exhortations,  half  Magyar,  half 
English,  but  wholly  profane,  calculated  to  impress 
upon  Katya's  mind  that  she  was  by  many  degrees  the 
most  foolish  woman  in  Anthracite  county. 

"  Why  for  you  one  blank  fool  make  yourself  with 
cinder?"  he  brawled.  "Why  for  you  bring  the 
double-dashed  soldier  mine  house  in?  Make  him 
out." 

Katya  had  by  this  time  reached  the  door  step.  She 
replied  in  her  own  language  that  the  man  was  the  well 
born  Heinrich,  the  honoured  son  of  her  dear  patroness, 
Mrs.  Warne.  The  honoured  master  was  badly 
wounded.  Did  Yawcup  not  remember  how  kind  he 
had  been  to  them  ? 

But  Yawcup  was  bent  on  disciplining  Katya  in  a 
manner  which  should  bring  him  public  applause.  So, 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  71 

disregarding  her  repeated  plea  not  to  enter  the  house, 
he  came  roughly  up  the  step. 

Then  a  strange  thing  happened.     If  Yawcup  had 

looked   into   Katya's   eyes   he   would   have  seen   his 

danger.     But  he  was  bent  on  having  his  own  way. 

'  You  drag  him  in;  you  must  drag  him  out! "  he  said, 

lifting  his  hand  to  force  her. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  remembrance  of  her  dear  Mrs. 
Warne;  perhaps  it  was  the  long  years  of  indignity 
that  she  had  suffered;  but  when  Katya  saw  Yawcup's 
hand  raised  to  strike  her,  a  sort  of  madness  like  that 
she  had  felt  on  the  wall  of  the  culm  dump  filled  her 
soul.  Blindly  she  rushed  at  her  lord  and  master, 
dodging  the  blow  he  tried  to  strike  and  planting  her 
heavy  right  hand,  red  and  hardened  with  labour, 
squarely  on  Yawcup's  neck.  That  was  the  only  blow 
which  the  mob  down  by  the  end  of  the  dump  could 
distinguish.  During  the  rest  of  the  struggle,  a  furious 
figure,  with  wildly  waving  arms  was  seen  to  come  into 
frequent  and  violent  contact  with  Yawcup. 

As  for  Yawcup,  after  his  first  attempt  to  strike,  he 
offered  only  a  feeble  resistance.  And  long  before  the 
delighted  crowd  of  strikers  could  come  near  enough 
to  enjoy  the  performance,  Yawcup  had  gone  down, 
face  foremost,  into  the  slush  while  Katya  sat  across 
his  hips  pounding  his  head  up  and  down  on  the  ground. 

When  her  frenzy  had  spient  itself  somewhat,  she 
asked :  "  Shall  the  well-born  Heinrich  stay  in  the  house 
now?  " 

In  his  daze  Yawcup  had  forgotten  all  about  the 
well-born  soldier  and  his  own  intent  to  discipline 


72     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Katya.  He  could  only  groan  and  promise  feebly, 
''  Yes,  Grott  in  Himmel !  Let  him  stay !  Only  you  no 
pound  my  head !  " 

When  the  crowd  of  strikers  came  up  again  to  the 
little  house  the  door  was  locked  and  all  was  silent 
within.  Katya,  with  the  two  wounded  men  on  her 
hands,  was  rendering  aid  to  the  injured. 

While  the  strikers  were  still  laughing  and  calling 
for  Yavvcup,  Whiz  Nicol,  one  of  the  pickets  of  the 
strikers,  ran  breathlessly  down  the  road  from  the 
breaker.  He  flung  himself  into  the  midst  of  the  crowd 
before  he  could  persuade  anyone  to  listen  to  him. 
"  You  fools,"  he  stormed.  "  What  have  you  been 
doin'  this  half-hour  that  you've  let  the  whole  company 
from  the  Twenty-fifth  walk  right  up  on  the  other  side 
of  the  dump  to  the  breaker?  You've  done  us  dirt! 
You've  give  the  whole  snap  away !  You'll  see  the  blue 
devils  swarmin'  over  the  top  of  the  dump  in  the  next 
two  minutes,  while  youse  id  jits  stand  here  amusin' 
yourselves  teasin'  this  lame  Hungarian.  O,  youse 
needn't  swear  about  it  now!  The  game's  up,  here. 
Might  as  well  sneak  off." 

Half  an  hour  later  when  Major  Creigan  was  ban 
daging  Warne's  wounds,  he  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Why,  Lieutenant,  how  did  you  get  hit  by  one  of 
our  own  men  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  Warne  said 
wretchedly.  His  face  was  drawn  and  old,  but  not  with 
the  pain.  It  was  bad  enough  that  the  physician  must 
know  that  he  had  been  hit  in  the  back;  why  should  he 
be  so  heartless  as  to  ask  an  explanation? 


A  TOY  SOLDIER  73 

Yawcup  said  something  in  his  own  language  to 
Katya. 

"  Yawcup,  he  know,"  she  cried.  "  Yawcup,  he  say 
the  gracious  sir,  he  try  to  make  the  gendarmes  go  up 
the  bank.  They  no  will  go.  One  gendarme,  he  stand 
way  off  on  end.  He  make  shoot  at  the  honoured 
master.  Then  Mr.  Heinrich  fall.  The  men  all  run 
'way.  Then  Yawcup  he  come  up  from  behind  the 
bank  of  the  creek." 

"What's  that?"  cried  Warne  rousing  up.  "The 
man  on  the  end?  I  know  him.  I  remember  that  he 
was  behaving  badly.  He  shot  me?  The  cur —  No, 
I  can  forgive  him  for  that.  Now  I  can  go  to  the 
bishop,  if  I  get  over  this.  But,  Doctor,  I  didn't  turn 
my  back !  I  didn't  run !  " 

"  No,  my  boy,"  the  surgeon  replied,  "  this  wound 
shows  you  didn't  run,"  and  he  blew  his  nose  violently 
before  taking  up  the  bandages  again. 

But  Yawcup  wonders  to  this  day  why  the  young 
officer  shook  hands  with  him  so  heartily  and  how  a 
wounded  man  could  grip  his  hand  so  hard. 


THE   HERETIC'S   PARISH 


The  hero  is  not  fed  on  sweets, 
Daily  his  own  heart  lie  cats, 
The  chambers  of  the  great  are  jails, 
And  head  winds  right  for  royal  sails." 

— EMERSON. 


THE  HERETIC'S  PARISH 

WHEN  the  Reverend  Henry  Martyn  Warne 
had  recovered  from  his  wound    and    had 
passed  his  year's  diaconate  the  first  thing 
which  he  discovered  after  his  consecration  was  that  he 
was  a  heretic!     At  least  to  his  own  conscience  he 
seemed  to  be.     It  was  not  that  he  had  as  yet  adopted 
any  positive  views  which  he  was  sure  were  in  conflict 
with  the  Articles  of  Religion;  but  he  was  sincerely 
troubled  lest  the  opinions  he  held  might  grow  into  the 
rankest  heresy. 

It  came  to  pass  when  the  young  clergyman  unbur 
dened  his  conscience  to  Bishop  Vaux  and  asked  for 
advice  that  the  bishop  replied,  "  Do  nothing  at  all 
at  present." 

"  But,  Bishop,  it  seems  to  be  dishonest " 

"  You  have  been  honest  enough  to  tell  me.  Never 
mind  telling  your  wardens, — you  are  not  responsible 
to  them;  and  as  for  your  people,  preach  what  you  are 
sure  about  and  let  your  doubts  rest.  It  will  be  time 
enough  to  try  you  for  heresy  when  you  have  formu 
lated  your  beliefs.  In  the  meantime  I  have  a  place 
for  you  as  rector  in  Coalton.  The  town  is  growing, 
and  you  will  do  better  work  up  there  than  if  you 

77 


78     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

should  go  to  a  larger  place.  There's  work  to  be  done. 
In  a  year  or  two,  if  you  are  still  troubled  with  these 
doubts,  we  will  consult  further  about  the  matter." 

"  Coalton  is  a  forlorn  place,"  the  bishop  went  on; 
"  and  for  some  reasons  I  dislike  to  send  you  there." 
He  did  not  say  that  it  was  because  the  young  man  must 
go  alone,  while  Helen  served  her  novitiate  in  a  distant 
city.  But  Warne  knew  and  sympathised  in  silence. 

"  What  has  been  done  there  within  the  past  few 
years  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Just  a  handful  of  people  gathered  and  wardens 
elected.  The  work  is  all  to  be  done  yet,  if  you'll  un 
dertake  it?" 

"  If  you  say  so,  I'll  try,  Bishop."  And  so  the  matter 
was  settled. 

The  church  and  the  rectory  of  the  new  charge  were 
situated  well  enough  on  a  commanding  ridge,  but  the 
most  of  the  town  of  Coalton  clung  to  the  bases  of  the 
steep  mountain  sides  along  the  edge  of  a  narrow  valley. 
The  Anthrax  creek  that  poured  swiftly  through  the 
valley  ran  black  with  coal  dirt  for  part  of  the  year. 
During  the  summer  months  it  left  its  bed  of  stones 
bare  and  red  with  iron  rust  from  the  mine  water,  to 
blaze  back  the  heat  of  the  sun. 

The  night  after  the  rector's  arrival  at  Coalton,  his 
warden,  owner  of  one  of  the  mines  of  Coalton,  called 
to  take  him  over  the  parish.  As  they  walked  along 
the  back  streets,  songs  and  cries  came  from  the  cur 
tained  windows  of  the  saloons. 

"  You  see  to-dav  is  pay-day,"  the  warden  explained. 
"  There's  always  lots  of  rum  over  here  after  the  men 


THE  HERETICS  PARISH  79 

are  paid,  but  it  isn't  so  bad  at  other  times.  Maybe  I 
oughtn't  to  have  brought  you." 

The  rector's  heart  was  stirred  at  the  sights  and 
sounds  of  wickedness.  "  We'll  start  a  mission  over 
here,"  he  said. 

"  But — but,   Mr.  Warne,  this  is  your  parish." 

"This!    These  dens?" 

"  I  supposed  the  bishop  had  told  you  where  your 
work  would  lie." 

Then  came  a  running  commentary  on  the  people 
they  passed. 

"  That  man  standing  by  the  door  of  the  saloon  is 
one  of  our  attendants,  Breece  by  name.  I'm  afraid  he's 
pretty  drunk  to-night.  He  looks  much  better  when 
he's  clean  and  sober.  Yes,  that  youngster  is  rather 
a  ragamuffin,  but  there  isn't  a  brighter  boy  in  the 
Sunday-school.  He's  rather  a  hard  case,  but  what 
could  you  expect?  His  father  was  killed  in  the  strike 
last  year.  There  were  five  of  our  men  killed  by  that 
volley  from  the  soldiers,  besides  three  little  children 
and  two  women." 

Rector  Warne  remembered  with  a  throb  of  thank 
fulness  that  his  wound  had  put  him  out  of  action  before 
any  blood  but  his  own  had  been  shed. 

"  It  was  down  this  street  that  the  soldiers  came," 
the  warden  went  on,  "  and  in  these  shanties  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Patch  that  the  women  and  children 
were  killed.  That  was  a  dark  time  for  Coalton,  Mr. 
Warne." 

The  rector  did  not  seem  to  care  to  discuss  the  strike, 
yet  he  felt  that  he  must  say  something.  "  Did  the 


8o    THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

men  feel  that  anything  was  accomplished  by  the 
strike?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh  yes,  various  things.  The  companies  granted 
them  ten  cents  per  ton  increase,  after  they  had  lost 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  through  the  idleness 
of  the  mines.  On  the  other  hand  the  miners  suffered 
to  the  point  of  starvation  before  they  would  com 
promise.  When  the  soldiers  crushed  the  strike,  blood 
shed  accompanied  the  act,  and  hate  and  distrust  fol 
lowed  it. — That's  accomplishing  a  good  deal,  isn't  it? 
The  community  hasn't  recovered  from  it  yet. — But 
I'm  afraid,  Mr.  Warne,  I'll  make  you  want  to  leave 
town  before  you  begin  work  among  us.  Shall  we  go 
home  now  ?  " 

"  No,  not  unless  you  are  tired.  Please  take  me 
clear  through  town  and  tell  me  all  about  it;  I  want 
to  know  what  I  have  before  me." 

"  You  must  not  be  too  hard  on  these  men,  Mr. 
Warne.  They  have  a  great  many  temptations.  For 
instance,  there  are  scores  of  them  here  in  the  saloons 
to-night  who  came  in  to  get  change." 

"  What  do  they  want  with  change?  " 

"  Why,  you  know  to-day  is  pay-day.  Each  miner 
is  a  contractor  with  the  company, — that  is,  each  man 
who  has  passed  the  mine  inspector's  examination  is 
given  a  legal  right  to  take  out  coal.  But  in  order  to 
do  his  work  successfully,  he  must  have  helpers.  All 
the  work  done  under  contract  with  the  company  in  a 
particular  chamber  is  paid  for  by  the  company  to  the 
contracting  miner.  If  the  mines  are  working  steadily, 
he  will  have  from  two  to  four  hundred  dollars  put  into 


THE  HERETIC'S  PARISH  81 

his  hands  on  pay-day  in  ten  or  twenty  dollar  bills. 
Each  of  his  helpers  will  have  a  fraction  of  this  amount 
coming  to  him.  So  the  men  get  into  the  habit  of 
going  to  the  saloon  to  get  change,  and  of  course  they 
don't  want  the  saloon-keeper  to  change  their  money 
without  buying  drinks." 

"  But  do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  is  nobody 
cares  enough  for  the  souls  of  these  men  and  boys  to 
change  their  money  for  them  without  subjecting  them 
to  the  temptation  of  drink?" 

"  Well,  you  see  the  miners'  labourers  are  often  for 
eigners  and  they  want  a  place  where  they  can  talk 
over  the  amount  of  their  wages  and  figure  it  out  for 
themselves.  Then  the  money  must  be  laid  down  on 
the  bar  in  piles,  so  that  each  may  see  for  himself  that 
his  neighbour  gets  no  more  than  he  has.  In  case  of 
dispute,  the  barkeeper  is  the  umpire." 

"  But  couldn't  they  do  this  at  a  store?  " 

"  The  stores  have  no  time  to  bother  with  them.  Be 
sides  the  men  are  dirty  and  their  clothes  are  covered 
with  oil  and  the  stores  are  crowded  and  rushed  on 
pay-days.  The  saloonkeeper  doesn't  mind  the  dirt  and 
he  has  plenty  of  time.  Then  again  the  stores  often 
run  out  of  change,  but  the  saloons  are  well  supplied." 

"  Why  couldn't  the  church  rent  a  building  over  here 
and  bring  a  few  thousand  dollars  in  small  change  out 
from  Carbonville  every  pay-day,  so  as  to  stop  this 
wretched  business?  " 

"  They  do  that  in  Carbonville  at  the  Y.  M.  C  A. 
But  then  that's  a  city.  We  might  have  trouble  if  we 
tried  it  here.  The  saloon  men  would  fight  it." 


82     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  rector's  eyes  flashed.  "  I  should  enjoy  that 
kind  of  a  fight,"  he  said  quietly.  "  At  any  rate,  I 
believe  the  Lord  would  be  on  our  side." 

They  had  just  reached  an  electric  light,  under  which 
a  group  of  children  were  playing  hop-scotch,  when  a 
sudden  silence  fell  upon  the  whole  street.  A  dark 
bulk  loomed  up  slowly  in  the  distance.  No  one  could 
have  told  just  how  the  word  passed  on  in  advance  that 
the  ambulance  was  coming,  but  instantly  the  laughter 
of  the  children  was  hushed  and  other  sounds  ceased, 
until  all  was  silent  as  death.  So  it  remained  except 
for  the  shrill  staccato  of  one  youngster,  who  burst  out 
crying  as  he  ran  swiftly  towards  his  home,  firmly  per 
suaded  that  his  father's  body  was  following  him  in  the 
ambulance.  Doors  flew  open  all  along  the  street  and 
anxious  women  peered  out,  clutching  at  throat  or 
breast  even  though  their  husbands  or  brothers  were 
beside  them.  Slowly  the  black  shape  passed,  the 
driver  with  his  head  bent  forward  and  his  eyes  fastened 
on  the  ground. 

The  crowd  that  walked  behind  the  wagon  answered 
all  the  eager  questions. 

"  A  Hungarian.  Yes,  dead.  Named  Klechi  or 
something.  Lived  down  in  the  Patch  somewhere." 

A  sigh  of  relief  broke  from  the  lips  of  a  woman 
in  the  doorway;  yet  there  were  tears  too. 

"  Sure  I'm  glad  it  wasn't  annywan  iv  our  kind  that 
was  kilt!  But  the  poor  fellow  has  folks  iv  his  own 
kind  no  doubt.  May  God  rest  his  sowl !  " 

"  There's  many  a  one  brought  home  like  that,  Mr. 
Warne,"  the  warden  said.  "  In  looking  over  the  rec- 


THE  HERETIC'S  PARISH  83 

ords  of  the  church  the  other  day,  I  found  that  less 
than  one-half  of  the  deaths  recorded  among  the  miners 
of  our  parish  were  from  natural  causes,  as  you  may 
say.  And  even  of  those,  some  were  from  miners' 
asthma  and  others  from  pneumonia  brought  on  by  the 
men  coming  out  of  the  mines  in  wet  clothes  which 
freeze  on  their  backs  before  they  can  get  home.  You 
don't  wonder  they  put  whiskey  in  their  boots  to  keep 
them  warm." 

The  rector  had  not  stirred  from  the  spot  beneath  the 
lamp  where  he  first  saw  the  ambulance.  "  Let's  go 
home,"  he  said.  "  I've  seen  all  I  care  for  to-night." 

Warne's  first  visitor  was  not  a  parishioner.  Indeed 
she  did  not  know  that  she  was  visiting  the  rector,  or 
she  might  not  have  dared  to  enter  the  rectory.  The 
housekeeper  had  left  the  front  door  unlocked  and  so 
the  old  woman  had  entered  without  the  formality  of 
ringing  the  bell.  Once  inside,  she  wandered  about  until 
she  reached  the  study.  Standing  just  inside  the  cur 
tained  doorway,  she  made  a  slight  noise  to  attract  Mr. 
Warne's  attention. 

She  was  a  dried-up,  bent,  old  woman,  with  a  pleas 
ing,  rubicund  countenance  in  which  the  wrinkles  which 
indicated  shrewdness  were  criss-crossed  with  about  an 
equal  number  indicating  kindliness. 

"Well?"  he  said,  thinking  it  was  his  housekeeper, 
without  raising  his  eyes  from  the  line  he  was  writing. 

"It's  a  foine  winther's  day,"  she  said,  drawing  a 
step  nearer  to  the  desk  where  he  sat. 

He  rose  and  placed  a  chair  for  her,  but  she  refused  to 
sit  down. 


84     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  It's  a  nice  place  ye  have  here  at  all.  Sure  ye  must 
be  very  comfortable  here  durin'  the  cold  weather." 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  please,  what  I  can  do  for  you?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Well  thin,  yer  honour,"  she  said,  consenting  under 
necessity  to  waive  further  polite  remarks,  "  I've  some 
tickets  here  that  I  t'ought  a  gintleman  like  yersilf 
would  be  buyin',"  fumbling  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress 
as  she  spoke,  and  producing  some  greasy  strips  of  num 
bered  pink  cardboard. 

"  I  don't  want  them,"  said  Warne,  without  touching 
them. 

"  But  ye  haven't  looked  at  thim!  "  she  said  simply. 
"  Ye  don't  know  what  ye'll  miss.  It's  for  a  neighbour 
iv  mine,  Tim  Phelan,  that  I'm  sellin'  thim.  The  poor 
man !  he  got  his  eye  hurted,  an'  the  b'ys  is  givin'  him 
a  binefit.  He's  got  five  wake  childer  an'  it's  four 
months  now  since  he  c'u'd  do  a  tap.  God  help  us  all ! 
We  anny  wan  iv  us  might  be  in  the  same  state  nixt. 
Ye  niver  c'n  tell  at  all,  whin  ye  goes  intil  the  mines, 
what  day  ye'll  come  out  kilt.  We  ought  all  to  help 
wan  another  as  far  as  we  c'n.  Ye'll  take  all  iv  thim 
tickets,  for  sure?  A  gintleman  like  yersilf,  won't  feel 
the  price  iv  thim,  an'  ye  might  save  the  cost,  if  ye 
win  the  prize." 

"  The  prize  ?    What  in  the  world  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Sure  the  prize  in  the  raffle!  It's  a  foine  feather 
bed  entirely.  An'  besides,  the  tickets  admits  ye  to  the 
binefit  ball  that  they'll  be  holdin'  overhead  the  hotel 
where  the  drawin's  to  take  place.  'Tis  Mark  Owens' 
hotel,  right  up  the  hill  an'  forninst  the  breaker.  Per- 


THE  HERETIC'S  PARISH  85 

haps  a  gintleman  like  yersilf  wouldn't  care  for  the  ball, 
but  ye  c'u'd  buy  the  whole  four  iv  the  tickets  for  yer 
frinds.  Tw'u'd  help  poor  Phelan  along,  an'  you'd 
niver  feel  it."  She  laid  four  tickets  down  on  his  desk 
as  she  spoke. 

"  But  I  don't  believe  in  raffles,"  the  rector  managed 
to  say  when  she  paused  a  moment  for  breath. 

"  But  'Squire  Barber  himsilf  will  conduct  it, — a 
man  that's  niver  been  accused  iv  annything  crooked. 
An'  the  bed!  Oh!  it's  a  foine  bed  entirely!  Sure,  the 
bist  bed  they  had  in  the  house  an'  but  little  used.  Take 
two  tickets,  thin,  if  ye  don't  want  the  four  iv  thim. 
It's  great  merit  that  ye'll  make,  an'  as  foine  a  bed  as 
there  is  in  the  town!" 

"  You  don't  understand  me;  I  don't  think  a  raffle  is 
right." 

"  But  don't  I  say  to  ye,  that  the  poor  man  was  sick 
these  four  month  past?  He's  got  his  eye  hurted  that 
bad  he  can't  work." 

She  did  not  mention  the  fact  that  the  eye  had  been 
injured  in  an  argument  over  the  relative  merits  of  two 
rival  beneficial  societies,  and  that  the  society  for  which 
Phelan  had  so  valiantly  done  battle  had  gone  into  bank 
ruptcy  only  a  week  after  he  had  been  wounded,  leaving 
him  without  benefits  from  the  lodge. 

"  But  I  don't  like  raffling.  It's  gambling.  I  don't 
think  it  is  right." 

"  Is  it  gamblin'  ye  say?  Sure  there  won't  be  a  card 
in  the  house, — at  laste  not  outside  the  bar-room.  Twill 
all  be  done  by  'Squire  Barber,  blindfolded  as  fair  as 
ye  plaze,  an'  drawin'  the  numbers  out  iv  his  hat.  Be- 


86     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

sides  the  man  has  five  wake  childer,  an'  what  c'u'd  he 
do,  if  his  frinds  didn't  give  him  this  binefit?  Say 
ye'll  take  this  wan  ticket  annyhow?  I'll  wait  till 
afther  the  nixt  pay  for  the  money.  Tis  but  a  dollar, 
an'  ye'd  have  the  same  chanst  as  annywan  ilse  to  win 
a  foine  feather  bed." 

She  stood  a  moment  longer  till  the  housekeeper, 
who  had  been  summoned,  led  her  away.  As  she 
went  down  the  hall  he  heard  the  story  of  the  five  weak 
children  repeated.  The  housekeeper,  being  a  woman, 
quickly  disposed  of  her  by  turning  her  over  to  the  cab 
man  who  had  come  to  take  the  rector  to  a  funeral; 
while  the  cabman,  having  no  one  to  call  to  his  assist 
ance,  or  being  hopeful  of  winning  the  fine  feather  bed, 
purchased  one  of  the  tickets  which  Mr.  Warne  had 
refused. 


AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY 


/  smiled  to  think  God's  greatness 
Flowed  round  our  incompleteness, 
Round  our  restlessness  His  rest." 

— E.  B.  BROWNING. 


VI 

AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY 

WARNE'S  first  funeral  was  that  of  Mrs.  Breece, 
whose  husband  had  been  indulging  in  pay 
day  festivities  on  the  night  of  the  rector's 
first  round  of  his  parish.  During  the  week  which  fol 
lowed  the  rector's  arrival  in  Coalton  Mrs.  Breece  had 
quietly  passed  out  of  life  into  the  peace  of  God.  The 
little  four-roomed  company  house  in  which  the  serv 
ices  were  held  seemed  so  pitifully  bare  and  the  circum 
stances  of  her  death  so  sad  that  the  rector  was  pro 
foundly  moved  as  he  performed  the  offices  of  the 
church.  While  his  own  heart  found  comfort  in  the 
thought  of  the  dead  woman's  undoubted  piety,  his 
whole  delicate  nature  revolted  at  the  barren  unloveli- 
ness  of  the  funeral  arrangements.  On  the  way  to  the 
grave,  he  had  put  aside  his  own  feelings  and  tried  to 
console  the  husband  and  children  who  rode  in  the  same 
carriage  with  him ;  but  on  the  return  from  the  ceme 
tery  he  had  given  himself  over  to  his  own  sad  medita 
tions,  feeling  also  that  perhaps  his  companions  would 
prefer  silence. 

He  was  therefore  somewhat  disturbed  when  Breece 
began  speaking  of  a  certain  Mike  McCarty,  a  well 
known  character  of  the  town,  who  had  caused  trouble 

89 


90     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

by  interrupting  the  services  of  the  church  during  the 
incumbency  of  a  former  rector. 

Seeing  that  Warne  had  shown  but  slight  interest 
in  the  recital,  Breece  warmed  up  and  asked,  "  What 
wouldst  tha'  do,  parson,  if  he  should  come  to  church 
some  mornin'  an'  make  trouble  for  thee?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  should  rebuke  him,  and  if  he  persisted 
I  should  call  on  the  wardens  to  do  their  duty  and 
eject  him  from  the  church." 

"  Huh !  There's  no  warden  like  to  be  there  but 
hold  'Ardin.  I  should  like  to  watch  him  puttin'  Mike 
McCarty  hout,  'specially  if  he  wer'  full  o'  liquor ! 

"  Parson,  didst  tha'  never  'earn  tell  o'  Zed  Miller, 
the  Hinglish  fightin'  parson?  Ah,  he  wer'  a  rare 
one!  Come  from  the  same  part  o'  Sunderland  where 
I  wer'  born.  A  great  preacher  in  his  day  an'  the 
Lord's  champion.  Mr.  Warne,  I  don't  want  to  tell 
thee  what's  thy  duty,  but  when  Zed  Miller  wer'  inter 
fered  wi'  he  went  hout  in  the  name  o'  the  Lord  and 
punished  his  tormentor. 

"  I've  'earn  my  father  tell  it  wer'  like  this :  A  big 
Cornishman  come  to  the  meetin's  night  hafter  night, 
an'  he  did  so  to  make  sport  an'  mock  of  it  all.  At  first 
the  preacher  he  told  him,  quiet-like,  to  behave.  Then 
he  give  him  public  warnin',  but  it  done  no  good.  One 
night,  just  hafter  Zed  Miller  had  give  hout  his  text, 
the  man — they  called  him  George, — fetched  hout  a 
loud  haw-haw  an'  slapped  his  knee  that  you  could  'ave 
'card  it  houtside  the  church.  Zed  Miller  come  down 
from  the  pulpit  an'  walked  to  the  seat  where  George 
wer'  set,  an'  he  reached  hover  an'  took  him  by 


AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY          91 

the  coat.  '  George,'  he  says,  '  I  told  thee  not  to  dis 
turb  this  meetin'  again.  Now  tha'  must  come  wi'  me. 
I'm  the  Lord's  champion.  The  Lord  an'  I  are  goin'  to 
whip  thee.'  George  wer'  a  big  man  hisself  an'  the 
preacher  a  big  man,  so  he  didn't  dare  to  'old  back,  but 
come  right  hout.  Well,  they  went  houtside  an'  stripped 
off  their  coats  an'  right  at  it.  George  wer'  pretty 
'andy  wi'  his  fists,  but  the  preacher  seemed  to  'ave  the 
reach  on  him  an'  it  wern't  long  till  he  had  him  whipped. 
'  I'm  goin'  to  thump  thee  good,  George,'  he  said,  '  until 
tha's  had  enough,'  an'  he  belted  him  one  more  an' 
George  give  up.  Then  he  made  him  get  up  an'  when 
he  had  washed  his  face  an'  the  preacher  had  washed 
his  own  hands  and  tidied  hisself  up  a  bit,  he  led 
George  up  to  the  front  seat  an'  went  on  wi'  his  sermon. 
That  wer'  a  man  for  you !  " 

No  man  had  ever  gone  to  work  more  earnestly  than 
Rector  Warne.  Sleeping,  he  dreamed  of  impossible 
things  to  do  for  his  parish,  and  waking,  he  put  all  pos 
sible  plans  into  operation.  With  such  helpers  as  he 
could  find,  he  reorganised  the  Sunday-school.  Just 
at  first  the  little  church  was  well  filled  both  morning 
and  evening,  until  the  population  had  satisfied  its  curi 
osity  by  hearing  the  new  clergyman.  But  presently  the 
audiences  settled  down  into  the  usual  handful  of  regu 
lar  and  irregular  attendants.  The  rector  was  doing 
his  best  to  instruct  and  uplift  his  people,  but  it  was 
up-hill  work. 

His  first  effort  was  in  behalf  of  Mrs.  McCarty,  the 
washerwoman  of  the  clerical  linen.  She  was  a  dumb, 
patient  creature,  still  quite  young,  but  looking  wofully 


92     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

faded  from  hard  work  and  abuse.  Her  husband,  Mike, 
was  a  good  sort  of  fellow  when  sober,  but  notoriously 
ugly  when  drunk.  Only  three  weeks  after  his  wife 
began  to  wash  at  the  rectory  he  had  driven  her  from 
his  home  in  fear  of  her  life.  When  the  rector  heard 
of  this  he  sought  Mrs.  McCarty  to  see  whether  some 
thing  could  not  be  done  to  prevent  her  husband  from 
getting  liquor.  Mrs.  McCarty,  smarting  under  her 
sense  of  wrong,  told  Mr.  Warne  that  Mark  Owens 
was  to  blame  for  most  of  her  troubles.  She  could 
swear  that  he  had  sold  to  Mike  while  he  was  drunk, 
and  that,  too,  against  her  orders.  He  had  also,  to  her 
certain  knowledge,  sold  whiskey  on  Sunday  and  to 
minors.  Here  was  a  clear  case.  The  rector  at  once 
caused  the  man's  arrest  and  had  Mrs.  McCarty  sum 
moned  as  the  chief  witness.  But  at  the  hour  appointed 
for  the  hearing  she  did  not  appear,  and  'Squire  Barber 
refused  to  hold  the  saloon-keeper  on  the  evidence  of 
the  other  witnesses.  On  the  following  day  Warne 
discovered  that  she  had  gone  to  the  firemen's  picnic, 
the  saloon-keeper  having  bought  her  a  railroad  ticket 
and  given  her  a  five-dollar  bill  besides. 

"  That's  more  than  I  would  have  got  out  of  it,  if 
Owens  had  been  sent  to  jail,"  she  said.  "  Besides, 
he's  been  a  good  neighbour  to  us  when  we  were  in 
trouble.  And  then  the  baby  was  sick,  and  I  thought 
the  picnic  might  do  him  good,  poor  little  fellow !  So  I 
thought  I  wouldn't  go  to  the  'Squire's." 

At  half-past  eight,  a  week  later,  Warne  was, hur 
rying  home  through  Reagan's  Lane,  when  he  heard 
a  muffled  scream  coming  from  McCarty's  house.  Com- 


AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY          93 

ing-  nearer,  he  made  out  the  cry  to  be  a  call  for  help. 
Warne  stopped  instantly. 

He  did  not  know  that  the  etiquette  of  Rea 
gan's  Lane  requires  that,  so  long  as  a  family  fight  is 
continued  in-doors,  the  neighbours  are  supposed  to  be 
unconscious  of  its  progress.  It  is  only  when  the  de 
feated  party  rushes  from  the  house  to  call  murder 
that  outsiders  are  supposed  to  take  any  notice  of  such 
unpleasantnesses.  The  rector,  being  ignorant  of  this 
rule  of  good  breeding,  must  therefore  be  excused  for 
what  he  did. 

Springing  upon  the  step,  he  rapped  sharply  with  one 
hand  while  trying  the  door  with  the  other.  The  door 
was  locked.  The  noise  stopped  for  a  minute,  and  a 
thick,  uncertain  voice  framed  itself  into  curses  on  the 
intruder.  The  rector  instantly  called  to  be  admitted, 
and  improved  the  lull  in  hostilities  to  push  aside  the 
curtain  from  the  half-raised  window. 

It  is  hard  to  make  rules  of  etiquette  that  shall  cover 
all  possible  emergencies :  even  the  code  of  Reagan's 
Patch  was  imperfect.  It  happened  that  on  this  night 
McCarty,  having  locked  the  doors  and  pocketed  the 
keys,  had  begun  to  abuse  his  wife  by  beating  her  with 
a  mining  needle.  He  had  struck  her  once,  before  the 
clergyman's  coming  interrupted  him.  The  woman, 
who  was  fast  losing  consciousness,  from  the  blow  of 
the  iron  rod,  had  sunk  down  sobbing  in  a  forlorn  heap 
behind  the  rocking-chair,  whence  her  lord  and  master, 
by  various  unsteady  thrusts  with  the  rod  was  endeav 
ouring  to  dislodge  her.  The  rector,  since  all  codes  of 
etiquette  would  have  agreed  in  pronouncing  this  a  time 


94     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

for  outside  interference,  sprang  quickly  through  the 
window,  calling  to  the  man  to  stop  such  brutal  work. 

McCarty  looked  at  him  stupidly  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  began  to  explain.  "  Woman'sh  drunk,"  he  said 
profanely.  "  I've  told  her  not  to  get  drunk  more'n  a 
dozen  timesh,  but  she  won't  mind  me.  'Found  her 
thish  away  when  I  come  home.  'Knowed  right  away 
what'sh  a  matter. — I'm  a-goin'  to  sober  her  up.  Pound 
the  solesh  of  her  feet.  Besht  way  in  the  world  to 
sober  up  a  woman.  Fact! — you  know  how  'tish  yer- 
self." 

Mr.  McCarty  delivered  himself  of  this  information 
by  instalments,  his  statements  being  interrupted  by 
various  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  rector  to  induce  him 
to  desist  from  his  laudable  purpose  of  securing  sobriety 
on  the  part  of  his  wife. 

Finally  his  patience  gave  way.  "  What'sh  thish 
bishnesh  to  you?  Who' re  you,  annyhow?  Musht  be 
drunk  yerself !  You  betther  go  outside." 

Then  to  show  that  he  had  enough  of  such  undesir 
able  company,  Mr.  McCarty  turned  his  attention  to 
his  wife's  case  again,  aiming  a  most  vicious  blow  with 
the  iron  rod  at  her  unprotected  foot. 

As  he  raised  the  iron,  the  rector  snatched  it  and 
threw  it  out  the  window.  For  half  a  second  McCarty 
stared  at  the  minister  in  speechless  rage.  Then  he 
precipitated  himself  with  all  his  force  on  the  clergy 
man,  striking  out  blindly  and  bearing  him  down  to 
wards  the  floor.  For  one  breathless  minute  the  rector 
struggled  as  for  his  life;  then  the  two  men  fell  heavily 
— but  the  rector  was  on  top. 


AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY          95 

"  You  scoundrel !  "  panted  Warne.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  treating  your  wife  in  this  manner?  You 

brute!  You "  There  was  nothing  more  that  he 

could  say.  Even  what  he  had  said  sounded  to  him 
like  oaths. 

"  Go  and  get  somebody  help  me  take  this  man  to 
jail,"  said  the  rector,  turning-  his  head  towards  Mrs. 
McCarty.  Then,  remembering  that  the  man  was  her 
husband,  he  corrected  himself,  "  I  mean  to  help  me  put 
him  to  bed."  But  Mrs.  McCarty  could  not  help  him. 
She  had  fainted. 

It  is  not  easy,  even  for  one  who  is  in  constant  prac 
tice,  to  hold  down  an  antagonist  who  weighs  forty 
pounds  more  than  himself,  unless  he  diverts  the  efforts 
of  his  enemy  to  rise,  by  punishing  him  with  blows.  But 
Warne,  very  naturally,  was  badly  out  of  training; 
indeed,  the  one  fight  he  had  had  during  his  public 
school  days  could  hardly  be  called  putting  him  into 
training  at  all. 

So  he  soon  found  that  McCarty  was  going  to  turn 
the  tables  and  perhaps  get  him  down,  with  no  scruples 
about  punishing  him,  unless  he  should  pursue  an 
aggressive  policy,  or  some  one  should  come  to  his 
help.  He  hesitated  about  striking  the  man,  and  so, 
while  McCarty  struggled  more  and  more  successfully 
to  free  himself,  Warne  betook  himself  to  prayer — 
subject  to  interruptions. 

"  O  Lord,  help !  "  he  prayed,  "  make  bare  Thine 
holy  arm !  " 

But  no  deliverer  came  and  here  McCarty  gave  a 
tremendous  upheaval. 


96     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  O  Lord,  help  me ! — to  thrash  this  fellow  until  he 
can't  do  any  further  damage!  " 

Just  then  McCarty  succeeded  in  throwing  his  right 
arm  about  the  rector's  neck  and  pushing  him  partly 
off  his  prostrate  body.  The  rector  felt  something  snap 
in  his  shoulder.  It  seemed  to  him  that  not  only  was 
his  prayer  unheard,  but  that  the  Lord  had  altogether 
forsaken  him.  Then  McCarty's  fingers  began  to  close 
uncomfortably  about  his  antagonist's  throat. 

"O  Lord,  forgive  me  if  it's  wrong!"  gasped  the 
rector,  and  then  his  long  fingers  instinctively  sought 
McCarty's  throat  in  turn.  He  was  now  lying  at 
right  angles  across  the  miner's  body;  with  his 
knees  he  held  down  one  of  McCarty's  arms,  with  his 
left  hand  he  wrenched  loose  the  fumbling  fingers  from 
his  own  throat  and  held  the  hand  down  to  the  floor, 
while  with  his  right  hand  he  grasped  his  big  antagonist 
by  the  neck.  The  man  tried  to  bite,  and  bounced  the 
rector  up  and  down  with  his  chest;  but  the  long,  wiry 
fingers  never  let  go  their  grasp  at  the  shaggy  throat. 
It  was  not  in  vain  that  Warne  had  held  the  cham 
pionship  as  tennis-player  while  in  the  seminary. 

"  I  tell  you  the  preacher  was  a'chokin'  him,"  said 
the  big  "  mule-whacker "  who  was  the  first  to 
hear  the  fracas  and  come  to  the  rector's  assistance. 
He  was  addressing  an  interested  group  of  listeners 
on  the  steps  of  the  company  store  the  next  evening. 
"  '  Davis,'  says  he,  a-turnin'  round  like  this  when  he 
heard  me  drop  through  the  window,  '  Davis,  help  me 
to  put  this  man  to  bed ! '  To  bed !  Wouldn't  that  jar 


AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY          97 

you  ?  '  He  looks  as  if  you  had  him  ready  for  bed/ 
says  I.  '  No/  says  he,  '  I  guess  it'll  be  better  to  call 
the  constable  to  take  him  to  the  lock-up.'  An'  I  didn't 
have  no  trouble  to  take  Mister  McCarty  along  all  by 
myself  last  night.  He  was  as  sober  as  a  judge,  when 
he  got  his  wind  again,  an'  as  meek  as  a  lamb,  after  them 
white  fingers  got  offen  his  neck." 

"  What  about  the  woman?"  some  one  asked,  after 
the  matter  had  been  pretty  thoroughly  discussed. 

"  Oh,  she  must  be  used  to  such  things  by  this  time ! 
I  guess  she  wasn't  much  hurt." 

"  I  heard  the  parson  was  for  gettin'  a  rig  and  takin' 
her  to  Carbonville  to  the  hospital." 

"  So  he  was.  '  I  hope  you'll  allow  me/  he  says  to 
her,  bringin'  her  a  drink  an'  bathin'  her  forehead. 
Poor  thing,  I  think  she  was  so  ashamed  to  have  her 
husband  ketched  in  such  a  dirty  trick  that  she  wanted 
us  all  to  go  away  an'  leave  her  alone.  But  the  parson 
wouldn't  hear  to  it.  '  I  couldn't  sleep,  if  I  thought  you 
were  here  alone  an'  sufferin'/  he  says.  An'  just  then 
Dr.  Creigan  happened  to  come  along  an'  hauled  her 
down  to  his  house  an'  give  her  somethin'  to  make  her 
sleep." 

That  night,  for  the  first  time  in  weeks,  Warne 
reviewed  his  heresies.  His  injured  collar  bone  kept 
him  awake  a  good  deal.  Since  coming  to  Coalton  he 
had  lacked  time  to  reflect  upon  'his  own  affairs.  Some 
times  he  had  been  so  tired  that  he  fell  asleep  on  his 
knees  during  his  devotions.  As  he  went  over  in  his 
mind  the  events  of  the  evening,  he  was  in  doubt  about 


98     THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  answer  to  his  prayer.  To  be  sure,  Davis  had 
come  in,  but  not  in  time  to  preclude  the  necessity  of 
violence. 

He  wondered  whether  he  had  'done  right.  Then  he 
was  troubled  for  fear  the  church  might  suffer  through 
his  action. 

Once  he  would  have  been  certain  that  the  men  would 
be  angry  because  he  had  laid  hands  on  McCarty;  now 
he  was  not  certain  but  that  they  would  approve  of 
him.  At  any  rate  he  would  go  to  the  jail  to  visit 
McCarty  in  the  morning.  He  fell  asleep  at  length, 
not  quite  sure  which  particular  heresy  it  was  that 
should  concern  him. 

When  the  rector  reached  the  jail  he  found  McCarty 
without  the  least  resentment  and  quite  ready  to  see 
him.  The  prisoner  wore  no  collar  and  he  had  black 
marks  upon  his  neck.  In  spite  of  the  best  intentions 
on  both  sides  the  interview  at  first,  was  somewhat  con 
strained.  It  was  rather  embarrassing  to  offer  spiritual 
consolation  to  a  man  whom  he  had  been  trying  to  choke 
only  a  few  hours  before.  But  he  dealt  faithfully  with 
McCarty,  who  listened  in  silence  to  all  he  had  to  say. 

Warne  would  have  gone  away  from  the  prison  feel 
ing  that  there  had  been  nothing  accomplished  by  his 
visit,  if  McCarty  had  not  said  just  as  he  was  about 
to  leave, 

"  Why  don't  ye  pray  that  other  prayer  f'r  me?  " 

"What  was  that?" 

"  Why  the  wan  ye  prayed  last  night  before  ye  was 
chokin'  me." 


AN  EXTIRPATED  HERESY          99 

The  rector  saw  that  the  man  was  absolutely  sincere. 

"  Ye  prayed  for  help  whin  I  was  jist  gettin'  the 
betther  iv  ye  last  night,  an'  although  I  near  bruk'  yer 
collar  bone,  He  helped  you.  Pray  f'r  me  now;  I  need 
help!" 

Then  the  rector  sank  to  his  knees  on  the  iron  thresh 
old  of  the  cell  and  bowed  his  head  against  the  bars, 
while  McCarty  on  his  side  of  the  grating  knelt  also. 
Warne's  uninjured  arm  found  its  way  through  the 
iron  barrier  across  the  man's  bowed  shoulders.  Then 
the  rector  poured  out  a  prayer  the  like  of  which  was 
not  found  even  in  the  Service  for  Visitation.  When 
the  rector  had  finished  and  at  his  request,  McCarty 
himself  prayed: 

"  O  Lord,  I  don't  know  how  to  pray  to  you  at  all,  at 
all.  But  whin  this  man  prayed  you  heard  him.  '  Make 
bare  thy  howly  ar-rum.'  Now  Lord,  you  helped  him; 
why  won't  you  help  me?  I'm  in  prison,  a  place  where 
I  niver  was  before.  I  can't  help  meself;  it's  all  on 
account  of  the  dhrink.  Lord,  help  me — help  me !  " 

And  who  shall  say  that  He  who  hears  the  sighing  of 
the  prisoner,  bound  in  affliction  and  with  bonds  of  evil 
habit  that  are  stronger  than  iron,  did  not  hear  that 
prayer  ? 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  on  that  day  one  of  the  rector's 
heresies  perished. 


THE  UNDOING 
OF  THE   HOUSE  OF  GOOCH 


"  The  toad  beneath  the  harrow  knows 
Exactly  where  each  tooth-point  goes; 
The  butterfly  upon  the  road 
Preaches  contentment  to  that  toad." 

— KIPLING. 


VII 

THE  UNDOING  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  GOOCH 


<  <  "^K  7"  OU  work  late  to-night.    Evidently  you  don't 

keep  union  hours."    Rector  Warne  paused 

a  minute  in  friendly  interest  where  Mr. 

Gooch  was  busily  working  away  on  the  roof  of  a  new 

house. 

"  The  union  'asn't  nothink  to  do  with  this  job,"  he 
said.  "  Hexcept  layin'  the  stone  for  the  foundation 
an'  framin'  the  timbers  of  the  'ouse,  there  'asn't  no 
body  'ad  naught  to  do  with  the  buildin'  o'  this  'ouse 
but  William  Gooch, — that's  me.  I'm  fair  proud  o' 
the  job  too  an'  when  I  get  the  missus  an'  the  young 
ones  'ere,  as  I  will  'ave,  please  Gawd,  afore  many 
days,  w'y  we'll  all  be  as  'appy  as  kittings." 

The  rector  made  a  mental  note  to  visit  the  new 
family  as  soon  as  they  should  be  settled,  to  see  that 
they  were  properly  located  in  the  church.  After  a 
few  minutes'  further  conversation  about  his  family 
and  his  house,  the  rector  passed  on,  leaving  Mr.  Gooch 
to  proceed  with  his  work. 

Mr.  Gooch  went  on  nailing  the  sheet  iron  from  blast 
ing  powder  kegs  over  the  roofing  boards  of  the  lean-to 
kitchen.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been  hard  at 
work  all  day  in  the  mines,  he  whistled  as  cheerfully  as 

103 


104  THOSE  BLACK   DIAMOND  MEN 

if  it  had  been  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  As  he  bent 
over  his  work  he  was  lighted  by  his  miner's  lamp 
fastened  to  his  oil-cloth  hat.  The  blows  of  his  hammer 
upon  the  sheet  iron  rang  out  with  a  sharp,  metallic 
clangour  which  would  have  made  sleep  impossible  for 
the  denizens  of  Reagan's  Patch,  if  they  had  not  been  ac 
customed  to  the  continual  clanking  and  shrieking  of 
the  coal  trains  all  night  long,  and  the  infernal  din  of 
the  coal  breaker  throughout  the  day.  The  only  noise 
which  could  arouse  Reagan's  Patch  from  its  slumbers 
was  a  fight,  and  Mr.  Gooch  was  not  a  fighting  man. 

Mr.  Gooch's  house  was  almost  finished.  To  be  sure, 
there  was  quite  a  space  which  had  not  been  weather- 
boarded,  but  then  that  was  well  up  toward  the  eaves, 
where  the  rain  was  not  likely  to  come  through.  It 
was  a  brilliant  economical  suggestion  which  led  Mr. 
Gooch  to  use  the  sheet  iron  from  old  powder  kegs  for 
roofing  material.  He  had  no  money  left  with  which 
to  buy  shingles,  and  he  had  plenty  of  powder  kegs. 
The  coal  company  forced  its  men  to  buy  the  useless 
kegs  in  which  their  powder  came.  By  tearing  these 
kegs  to  pieces  and  using  them  in  place  of  shingles  he 
would  have  a  fire  proof  roof  with  no  extra  expense. 
When  he  had  driven  the  last  nail  he  climbed  down 
from  the  roof,  entered  the  new  house,  and,  without 
undressing,  fell  asleep  on  the  rough  bunk  in  which  he 
had  been  sleeping  ever  since  there  had  been  shelter 
enough  to  call  a  house. 

While  Mr.  Gooch  was  putting  the  last  sheet  iron 
strips  on  his  house,  the  big  White  Star  steamer  was 
coming  into  port  in  New  York.  Down  among  the 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  0/GOOCH  105 

steerage  passengers  a  woman  and  three  children,  all 
girls,  stood  looking  curiously  at  the  lights  of  the  great 
city  which  seemed  to  be  drawing  nearer.  They  were 
dazed  and  untidy  after  their  voyage.  The  high-heeled 
shoes  and  cheap  foreign  finery  of  the  woman  seemed 
strangely  out  of  place.  In  the  morning,  when  the 
other  passengers  had  landed,  they  would  be  allowed 
to  enter  the  detention  pen.  Then  they  would  be  inter 
rogated  by  various  officials  of  the  immigration  bureau, 
passed  through  various  gateways  and  offices,  and  finally 
carried  on  a  slow  train  to  the  anthracite  coal  regions 
in  Pennsylvania  and  the  little  house  built  by  the  hus 
band  and  father. 

It  was  all  so  new  and  strange  to  them !  The  barren 
mountains  were  not  at  all  like  England,  nor  the 
wooden  railroad  bridges,  the  frame  houses,  the  un 
familiar  speech. 

"  Tell  us  which  way  to  go  to  Reagan's  Rag,  sir  ?  " 
the  woman  asked,  when  they  stood  alone  on  the  plat 
form  of  the  station  at  Coalton,  beside  their  old  coun 
try  "  boxes  "  and  bundles  of  bedding  tied  up  in  sheets 
that  were  blackened  from  steamer  and  railroad  travel. 

The  man  failed  at  first  to  understand  the  purport 
of  her  timid  question.  "  Which  way  is  it  to  Reagan's 
Rag?  "  she  repeated. 

"Reagan's— what?" 

"  Reagan's  Rag,  sir.  Me  'usband  'as  built  us  a  'ouse 
there.  He  works  in  the  'Atton  Colliery,"  she  added, 
seeing  that  the  man  still  failed  to  understand  her. 

"  O,  you  mean  Reagan's  Patch! ''  he  laughed,  point 
ing  out  the  way,  "  Don't  let  any  of  the  goats  eat 


106  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

you,"  he  called  after  her.  "  I  guess  green  things  are 
rather  scarce  down  that  way." 

When  at  last  they  toiled  up  to  the  door  of  the  house 
which  Mr.  Gooch  had  built,  even  the  children  bearing 
their  share  of  the  heavy  burden  of  baggage,  it  was 
only  to  find  that  the  door  was  locked  and  the  place  ap 
parently  deserted.  Within  was  the  rusty  stove,  a  few 
pieces  of  furniture  from  the  second  hand  store,  and 
the  bunk  which  Mr.  Gooch  had  made.  They  set  down 
their  bundles  and  waited,  eagerly  watching  for  the 
coming  of  their  loved  one. 

Old  Davis  found  them  there  when  he  went  by  to  feed 
the  Company's  mules  in  the  pen  outside  the  mine.  He 
stopped  curiously  in  the  dust  where  Mr.  Gooch  had 
meant  at  some  future  time  to  build  a  fence. 

"  Was  you  waitin'  for  some  one?  "  he  asked. 

"  I'm  lookin'  for  me  'usband,  sir,  William  Gooch. 
Can  you  tell  me  where  to  seek  'im  ?  " 

"  Your  husband !  You  don't  mean  to  say  " — he 
began.  "  William  Gooch,  did  you  say  ?  Good  Lord !  " 
he  cried.  "  Why,  woman — wait  a  minute,"  he  broke 
off  and  stepped  behind  the  house.  "  I  suppose  I  might 
have  known  that  old  Hoochi-coochi  wasn't  buildin' 
that  house  to  live  alone,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  But, 
thunder !  Did  anybody  ever  see  the  like  o'  this  ?  The 
man  just  killed  by  a  blast  and  buried  by  the  town,  be 
cause  he  had  no  friends,  and  now  right  on  the  heels  of 
it  all,  here  comes  his  widow  and  children  askin'  for  her 
husband!  Well,  anyhow  she  didn't  find  her  husband 
married  to  another  woman,  as  Casey's  wife  did  when 
she  came  over." 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  o/GOOCH  107 

It  were  better  that  the  history  of  the  house  of  Gooch 
for  the  next  year  or  two  remain  untold.  The  end 
of  it  all  was  that  Mrs.  Gooch  went  into  business. 
She  could  not  keep  boarders,  because  she  could  not 
cook  American  food.  Nor  could  she  do  washing,  be 
cause  a  score  of  other  women,  who  had  lived  long 
in  Reagan's  Patch,  waited  for  every  washing  that 
was  to  be  done.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  it  too, 
for  the  dust  from  the  coal  dump  soiled  everything, 
so  that  even  carpets  must  be  washed  frequently;  but 
there  was  nobody  to  hire  washerwomen,  except  the 
wives  of  the  saloon  keepers  and  the  wives  of  the  min 
ing  bosses. 

So  since  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done,  Mrs. 
Gooch  went  into  the  business  of  selling  bottled  beer, 
without  the  formality  of  appearing  before  the  license 
court.  She  had  been  the  barmaid  in  an  English  inn. 
and  this  gave  her  the  necessary  experience  about  deal 
ing  out  liquors,  while  a  ready  tongue  made  her  popular 
with  her  customers  and  insured  her  success.  The 
fact  that  she  was  not  obliged  to  pay  the  license  fee, 
which  Owens  found  so  burdensome,  made  her  business 
still  more  profitable. 

But  the  chief  reason  for  her  great  success,  lay  in  the 
fact  that  the  community  at  large  approved.  Not  that 
anybody  actually  wished  to  see  the  laws  broken,  but 
that  many  people  did  not  believe  in  the  restrictions  of 
the  license  laws,  while  they  did  sympathise  with  the 
widow,  who  had  no  other  way  to  make  a  living  than 
by  selling  unlicensed  beer.  If  Mr.  Gooch  had  lived 
things  might  have  been  different.  No  doubt  Mrs. 


io8  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Gooch  would  have  been  a  model  wife  and  mother,  and 
her  children  would  have  been  washed  and  brushed  and 
sent  to  Sunday-school.  But  now  it  was  very  little 
time  she  could  give  to  the  care  of  the  children. 

Two  men  did  not  uphold  her  effort  to  earn  a  liveli 
hood  :  Rector  Warne,  who  found  her  unlicensed  saloon 
a  hindrance  in  his  effort  to  revive  the  little  Episcopal 
church,  and  Mark  Owens,  who  represented  the  dignity 
of  licensed  saloon-keeping. 

Mark  Owens  and  the  rector  had  failed  to  get  along 
very  well  together,  which  was  a  pity,  considering  how 
well  their  first  acquaintance  promised.  Perhaps  it  was 
Owens'  unfortunate  misapprehension  in  connection 
with  their  first  meeting,  soon  after  the  rector  came  to 
Coalton,  that  hindered  their  further  intimacy. 

The  rector  had  visited  Owens  and  had  been  very 
cordially  received  by  him.  He  was  so  pleased  with 
his  visitor  that  he  offered  him  a  drink  of  his  best 
whiskey.  Some  men  came  in  just  then  who  did  want 
liquor  and  Mr.  Warne  took  his  leave. 

"  What  in  blazes  was  the  new  preacher  doin'  here, 
Owens?  "  one  of  the  men  asked.  "  Are  you  goin'  to 
get  religion  ?  " 

Owens  snorted.  "  Some  fellows  is  fools,  an'  some 
is  too  smart  for  'em.  There's  no  use  for  you  to  tell 
me  that  he's  the  preacher.  Why  I  talked  with  that  man 
for  half  an  hour,  an'  he's  a  good  fellow !  " 

Owens  had  had  to  stand  so  much  joking  about  the 
incident  that  he  felt  he  must  antagonize  the  rector 
somewhat  to  even  up  matters.  When  it  came  to  the 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  <?/ GOOCH  109 

matter  of  Mrs.  Gooch's  speak-easy  Owens  was  ready 
to  make  peace. 

"  Why  don't  your  church  people  appear  against 
these  miserable  speak-easies  ?  "  he  asked.  "  How  can 
a  man  like  me  do  a  decent  business  and  keep  a  decent 
place,  when  you  can  get  a  drink  in  any  little  dog  hole? 
Some  Hitalian  or  Russian  Jew  or  Slav  will  buy  a  bar 
rel  of  beer,  without  no  license  or  nothin',  and  go  right 
to  work  to  sellin',  same  as  I  do  who  pay  a  big  license 
fee.  And  they  ain't  all  Hi's  and  Huns  that's  in  the 
business,  neither.  There's  some  Protestants  that's 
come  to  town  that's  just  as  bad  as  the  worst  of  the 
Hi's." 

Owens  was  well  aware  that  when  Mrs.  Gooch's 
child  had  sickened  and  died  during  the  awful  heat  of 
their  first  summer  in  America,  it  was  the  rector  who 
had  been  called  to  administer  spiritual  comfort  to  the 
sorrowing  mother. 

"  It's  hard  to  get  evidence.  If  you  know  these 
things  to  be  true,  Mr.  Owens,  and  if  you  are  the  chief 
sufferer,  why  don't  you  do  the  prosecuting?  " 

The  rector  was  sure  that  Owens  had  so  often  been 
guilty  of  breaking  the  liquor  laws  himself  that  he 
would  not  dare  to  appear  against  Mrs.  Gooch. 

So  it  came  about  that  between  those  who  could  not 
or  would  not  and  those  who  dared  not  prosecute,  Mrs. 
Gooch  passed  a  most  profitable  season  of  law-breaking. 

It  was  just  at  the  beginning  of  Lent  that  the  first 
sign  of  danger  to  Mrs.  Gooch's  business  appeared.  A 
bitter  February  wind  was  blowing  clouds  of  dust  from 


no  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  huge  culm  heap  down  the  icy  streets  of  Reagan's 
Patch.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  culm  dump  that  the 
waste  of  which  it  is  composed  lies  loosely,  so  that  the 
water  drains  off  and  the  mass  does  not  freeze.  There 
fore  when  the  wind  blows,  either  in  summer  or  win 
ter,  fine  particles  of  coal  dust  are  carried  abroad  until 
the  whole  landscape,  houses,  trees  and  even  the  snow, 
is  blackened. 

The  Sunday  evening  Lenten  service  had  just  closed., 
Mrs.  Burt  Hatton,  the  Old  Mogul's  daughter-in-law, 
and  her  guest,  Helen  Vaux,  were  on  their  way  home 
from  church.  While  the  two  women  stood  waiting  for 
a  car  on  the  corner  where  a  squalid  lane  came  down  the 
hill  from  Reagan's  Patch  into  the  main  thoroughfare  of 
the  town,  a  little  child  was  driven  by  the  wind  down 
the  narrow  street.  She  appeared  to  be  not  more  than 
three  years  old.  Her  only  wrap  was  a  small  pink 
shawl,  which  was  dragging  after  her.  The  shawl  had 
been  wet  and  was  frozen  until  it  crackled  as  the  wind 
whipped  it  against  her  heels. 

Mrs.  Hatton  sprang  forward  with  a  little  cry. 
"  Why,  you  poor  tot !  Where's  your  mother  ?  " 

The  child  regarded  her  wonderingly  while  Mrs. 
Hatton  covered  her  with  the  folds  of  her  heavy  cloak, 
her  face  tender  with  feeling. 

"  What  is  your  name,  dear?  Where  do  you  come 
from  ?  Tell  me,  can't  you  ?  " 

Further  questioning  and  persuasion  elicited  the  fact 
that  the  child's  name  was  Beatrice  and  that  her  mother 
was  "  givin'  the  men  a  drink." 

While  the  two  women  toiled  up  the  hill  whence  the 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  o/GOOCH  in 

girl  had  come,  carrying  her  by  turns,  they  saw  an 
older  child  leave  one  of  the  houses  and  pass  quickly  in 
the  direction  of  Mrs.  Gooch's  lighted  speak-easy.  A 
woman  who  might  have  been  the  child's  mother  stood 
at  the  gate,  watching  her  as  she  ran  to  the  back  door 
of  the  unlicensed  saloon. 

When  they  came  up  to  the  woman,  Mrs.  Hatton 
opened  her  cloak  and  drew  near  to  the  fence  where  the 
woman  waited.  "  Can  you  tell  me  whose  child  this 
is?  "  she  said. 

"  Sure,  it's  Mrs.  Gooch's  Be'trice.  An'  where  did 
yez  find  her  this  cold  night?  It's  a  great  wan  for 
runnin'  away  she  is.  Aw,  Be'trice,  ye  naughty  gur-rl 
ye !  I'll  take  her  from  yez,  mum.  It's  mesilf  that  was 
jist  on  the  pint  iv  cursin'  her  mother,  for  takin'  al' 
me  man's  money  for  drink,  an'  sellin'  to  him  till  he 
won't  be  fit  to  go  to  wor-rk  to-morrow.  But  I  can't 
see  the  poor  child  iv  'her  freeze  to  death  on  the  streets 
sich  a  night  as  this.  May  be  her  mother  w'u'd  do  me 
the  favour  to  sell  no  more  drink  to  me  Dinnis,  if  I  tuk 
her  along  home.  I've  sint  me  own  little  Annie  up 
there  to  bring  him  back,  but  it's  no  certainty  that  he'll 
come  wid  her." 

When  they  were  on  their  way  home  again,  Helen 
burst  out,  "  O,  Kate,  do  you  'have  such  things  as  this 
up  here?  I  thought  I'd  seen  all  of  such  scenes  that 
I  could  bear  in  the  city.  Among  these  rugged  moun 
tains,  people  ought  to  be  good.  What  an  awful 
creature  that  child's  mother  must  be!  I  was  glad  the 
Irish  woman  offered  to  take  the  child  home.  I  didn't 
want  to  see  her." 


THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  I  supposed  you  knew,  Helen.  I  have  never  known 
anything  else.  We  have  always  lived  at  the  other  end 
of  the  town  and  come  to  church  in  the  carriage,  so 
that  we  don't  need  to  get  into  contact  with  these  for 
eigners.  If  you  can't  help  such  things,  what's  the 
use  to  know  about  them?  " 

"  But  you  can  help !  I  should  think  you'd  want  to 
come  in  contact  with  them.  Why  they're  real  heathen 
right  here  at  your  door.  Just  think  of  that  little  child 
on  the  street  such  a  night  as  this,  while  her  mother 
was  drinking  with  those " 

"O,  Helen,  don't!"  Mrs.  Hatton  begged.  "She 
is  just  the  age  of  my  baby.  Oh,  why  should  my  baby 
die,  while  God  lets  this  uncared-for  waif  live?  Surely 
I  was  as  fit  to  bring  her  up  as  this  woman  in  the  speak 
easy." 

"  Forgive  me,  dear,"  was  all  Helen  could  say.  "  I 
was  so  indignant  at  that  wretched  woman." 

"  Helen,  I  don't  believe  you  can  ever  understand 
how  hard  life  has  been  for  me  during  these  years  since 
we  left  College.  How  little  we  thought  then,  when  we 
said  good-bye  after  Commencement,  what  was  in  store 
for  us !  " 

"  Tell  me  about  it,  dear.  Sometimes  it  helps."  The 
tone  had  a  caress  in  it. 

Mrs.  Hatton  began  bravely,  but  her  voice  broke  now 
and  then  with  a  sob.  "  Oh !  I've  made  such  a  mess  of 
it  all !  My  own  life  and  other  people's  too.  You 
knew  about  my  runaway  marriage.  Romantic,  I 
thought  it,  but  it  was  only  selfish.  I  had  always  done 
as  I  pleased  and  although  father  didn't  want  me  to 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  o/GOOCH  113 

marry  Burt,  I  would  anyhow.  Burt  had  always  done 
as  he  pleased,  too;  so  you  see  how  easily  we  came  into 
conflict.  You  weren't  surprised  when  the  end  came 
and  we  separated  ?  " 

"  I  was  so  sorry,  dear !  " 

"  I  was  proud  and  thought  I  was  glad  to  be  free 
of  the  bonds,  as  my  lawyer  put  it.  But,  Helen,  when 
I  went  down  alone  into  the  valley  and  came  back  with 
my  baby,  I  saw  some  things  more  plainly.  Think  of 
it !  My  child  never  saw  her  father.  Burt  would  have 
been  so  proud  of  her !  " 

She  choked  a  moment  and  then  said  brokenly,  "  I 
suppose  I  loved  her  too  well;  but  she  was  all  I  had  to 
love.  I  suppose  God  took  her  to  punish  me." 

"  Kate,  I  don't  believe  that  you  loved  your  baby 
too  much.  I  don't  believe  you  could." 

"  Why,  Helen,  a  very  good  woman  said  to  me  that 
she  supposed  I  might  idolize  my  baby,  so  that  God  had 
to  take  her  away  from  me." 

"God  isn't  jealous  of  our  human  loves;  He  is  a 
God  of  love,  not  of  hate." 

"  I  try  to  believe  it,"  she  said  at  length.  "  But  what 
am  I  to  do?  "  she  went  on  piteously.  "  I  am  just  a 
weary  woman,  who  knows  that  she  has  made  a  failure 
of  it  all.  And  now  I  can't  even  stir  from  home  with 
out  seeing  some  neglected  child  that  makes  my  arms 
ache  for  my  own  baby." 

"  Find  some  sort  of  work  where  you  can  help  to 
make  life  easier  for  somebody  whose  sorrow  is  greater 
than  your  own." 

"  O,  Helen,  you  could  do  this;  but  I  can't!    Unless 


ii4  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

it  was  some  child  like  this  one  we  saw  to-night,  I 
could  not  bring  myself  to  do  such  work." 

In  her  own  mind  Helen  determined  that  it  should 
be  this  very  child  of  the  speak-easy.  She  would  put 
aside  her  own  repugnance  for  the  mother,  and  for 
the  child's  sake  and  for  Mrs.  Hatton's  sake,  she  would 
visit  Mrs.  Gooch  the  very  next  day. 

That  same  night  it  was  reported  to  Rector  Warne 
that  Mrs.  Gooch  was  selling  liquor  again  and  he  re 
solved  to  visit  her  in  the  morning. 

Helen  reached  the  speak-easy  first. 

She  was  received  with  great  delight  by  Mrs.  Gooch 
and  given  a  seat  of  honour  in  the  bare  front  room.  Al 
though  there  was  but  little  furniture,  there  were  lace 
curtains  at  the  windows  and  some  gaudy  tissue  paper 
flowers  on  the  wall.  Among  them  hung  the  coffin 
plate  of  the  child  who  had  died  during  the  previous 
summer.  In  the  kitchen  stood  a  table  with  an  untidy 
clutter  of  dishes  and  broken  food.  The  unpainted 
wood  work  of  the  house  began  to  show  spots  of  grease 
and  marks  of  grimy  fingers  which  were  not  all  made 
by  children. 

No,  Mary  Liz  did  not  go  to  school.  She  needed  her 
to  grabble  coal  from  the  dump.  Be'trice?  No,  Be'trice 
was  not  out  of  bed  yet.  She  was  not  very  well.  She 
coughed  in  the  night.  Her  food  didn't  agree  with  her 
cither.  No,  she  never  took  pains  about  the  food  of  her 
children;  just  gave  them  bread  and  tea  and  a  bit  of 
bacon,  the  same  as  she  had  herself.  Strong  meat 
would  make  strong  babies.  She  knew,  for  she  had 
raised  three,  and  buried  five. 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  0/GOOCH  115 

While  Helen  was  still  in  the  front  room,  there  came 
a  knock  at  the  back  door  and  Mrs.  Gooch,  anticipating 
a  possible  customer,  hastened  out  and  closed  the  door. 
It  was  Rector  Warne.  The  door  being  thin,  Helen 
could  not  help  hearing  a  part  of  the  conversation. 

The  rector  came  straight  to  the  point.  "  I've  come 
to  talk  to  you  about  this  illicit  liquor  business.  It 
must  be  stopped  at  once." 

The  widow  looked  rather  startled.  "  I  ain't  done 
nothink,"  she  said.  "  It's  the  only  w'y  I  have  to  keep 
me  'ome." 

"  But  you're  breaking  the  laws  by  selling  drink 
without  a  license,  and  it  can't  go  on  any  longer." 

"  Mr.  Warne,  I'm  just  a  poor  widow  tryin'  to  sup 
port  me  little  'ome.  I  'aven't  done  so  bad,  sir,  thank 
Gawd.  If  I  could  hafford  to  do  it,  I'd  be  willin'  to  keep 
the  laws.  I  would  'ave  kept  a  plyce  meself,  the  same 
as  Mark  Howens,  if  I  could;  but  I'm  too  poor.  I'd 
'ave  'ad  me  license  pypers — same  as  you  want  me  to 
do — long  ago,  an'  kept  the  laws  all  nice  an'  reg'lar, 
an'  come  to  church  of  a  Sunday.  I  can't  'elp  bein' 
poor!  It'll  be  very  'ard  for  me,  sir,  to  p'y  the  license 
fee,  an'  I  don't  know  if  I  can  get  the  pypers !  "  Here 
she  seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  tears.  "  If  you  would 
please  to  sign  the  pypers,  sir,  when  I  applied  for  li 
cense,  m'y  be  the  judge  would  give  it  to  me.  It's  quite 
a  bit  o'  money,  sir,  to  p'y  out.  If  you'd  be  so  kind, 
sir,  to  go  me  byle,  they  might  trust  me  for  it,  or  let 
me  p'y  it  by  the  month." 

Mr.  Warne's  view  of  the  case  did  not  seem  to  be 
making  much  impression  upon  the  mind  of  Mrs. 


n6  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Gooch.  So  he  rose  to  lend  force  to  his  words  and  to 
take  his  leave.  "  Mrs.  Gooch,  you  must  give  up  this 
whole  business.  Licensed  or  unlicensed,  you  are  doing 
wrong  in  the  sight  of  God." 

Mrs.  Gooch  now  began  to  wail  loudly.  "  But 
what'll  I  do,  sir  ?  'Ere's  me  'ome  an'  me  little  children 
that  depends  on  me  for  their  bread !  " 

There  was  a  sound  from  the  room  within  and  then 
the  closing  of  the  front  door  as  Helen  took  her  de 
parture. 

"  I  'aven't  done  nothink,"  the  widow  went  on  be 
tween  her  sobs.  "  Just  sold  a  bit  candy — an'  soft  stuff 
— to  me  neighbours." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  declare,"  asked  the  rector  sternly, 
"  that  you  sell  no  liquor  here, — no  beer  or  whiskey  ?  " 

"Who  said  whiskey,  sir?"  she  bawled,  forgetting 
her  grief.  "Was  it  that  'Ungarian  Katya?  Of  all 
the  bare-faced,  oudacious  bla'guards  and  liars  on  the 
top  o'  Gawd's  hearth " 

"  Never  mind,"  interrupted  Warne.  "  Tell  me  the 
truth  now;  haven't  you  sold  beer,  and  whiskey  too, 
right  here  in  this  room  within  a  week?  Weren't  you 
selling  last  night?  " 

There  was  no  evading  the  rector's  searching  glance. 
Mrs.  Gooch's  eyes  fell.  "  I  suppose  I  'ave  sold  a  drop 
or  two  o'  beer,"  she  admitted.  "  But  us  hold  country 
people  doesn't  look  on  beer  as  an  intoxicatin'  drink, 
sir,  as  you  may  s'y.  But  what  can  a  poor  woman  do? 
The  'ouse  over  our  'eads  is  all  I  'ave;  the  ground  ain't 
pyde  for  yet.  If  you  make  trouble  for  me,  I  'aven't  a 
friend  to  turn  to.  Me  poor  dead  'usband's  gone,  an' 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  o/GOOCH  117 

me  an'  little  Be'trice  an'  Mary  Liz  must  go  out  into 
the  street !  " 

"  Mrs.  Gooch,"  he  said  slowly,  "  you  must  choose 
one  thing  or  the  other  now.  A  month  ago  I  offered 
you  a  chance  to  take  care  of  the  kindergarten  rooms 
of  the  Grace  church  up  in  Mudtown " 

"  But  I  can't  give  up  me  'ome,  sir.  Me  'usband 
built  it  for  me.  An'  the  patch  up  at  Mudtown  is 
filled  up  with  'Ungarians  an'  Rooshians,  they  s'y.  I'd 
'ave  to  live  in  that  big  store  buildin',  an'  it's  deadly 
lonesome,  sir.  The  room  down  stairs  is  so  big  that  I 
couldn't  'eat  it  with  me  little  stove  in  winter.  I  can't 
go  there,  sir.  There's  nobody  to  speak  to.  Why  I'd 
fair  die  of  'omesickness." 

Mrs.  Gooch  had  now  reached  the  point  of  real  tears. 
The  rector  stood  silent  for  a  minute.  "  I'm  very  sorry, 
but  I've  nothing  else  to  offer.  Don't  forget  what  I 
have  said  about  selling  any  more  drink.  You'd  better 
throw  away  any  liquor  that  you  have  on  hand,  so  you 
won't  be  tempted.  We  won't  let  you  come  to  want,  but 
I  can't  allow  any  more  liquor  to  be  sold  here." 

As  he  left  the  house,  he  recognised  Helen's  figure 
rapidly  disappearing  down  the  street.  Without  hesi 
tation  he  quickened  his  pace  and  soon  overtook  her. 
"  I  didn't  expect  to  see  you  here,"  he  said. 

Helen's  face  was  flushed  and  she  held  her  head  very 
straight.  She  extended  her  hand. 

He  greeted  her  as  he  might  have  done  if  they  had 
parted  over  night  instead  of  nearly  two  years  before. 
"  I  saw  you  in  church  with  Mrs.  Hatton.  I've  writ 
ten  asking  your  permission  to  call,  but  I  am  sure  the 


n8  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

letter  could  not  have  reached  you  yet.  I  asked  if  I 
might  not  see  you  while  here,  just  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  O,  Helen,"  he  began  intensely,  "  can't  we 
go  back  again  and  go  on  as  we  did  while  you  were  still 
a  girl  in " 

But  Helen  was  not  quite  ready  to  take  up  personal 
matters. 

"  A  dreary  section  of  the  country  this  is,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Indeed  it  is.  I  can't  tell  you  how  it  depressed  me 
when  I  first  came  to  Coalton.  I  used  to  tramp  over 
the  barren  country  till  I  was  weary  in  body  as  well  as 
mind.  And  then  the  tragedies !  I  used  to  go  home  to 
the  rectory  so  lonely  and  blue,  and  there  was  no  one 
to  lighten  the  dreariness." 

The  girl's  eyes  softened  and  she  half-turned  toward 
him,  when  he  blunderingly  continued,  "  but  I've  grown 
used  to  that  now  and  don't  mind." 

Her  figure  stiffened  a  trifle  and  there  was  a  touch 
of  resentment  in  her  voice  as  she  said,  "  I  thought  you 
were  heartless  with  that  poor  woman.  I  was  there 
when  you  came  in  and  couldn't  help  hearing.  Why 
did  you  treat  her  so?  Can't  you  see  the  matter  from 
the  woman's  point  of  view?" 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't.  I'm  only  a  man.  I'm  trying 
to  see  it  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  other  women. 
Helen,  you  can't  imagine  how  much  harm  she  is  ca 
pable  of  doing.  You  don't  know  how  she  is  actually 
robbing  the  children  of  the  neighbourhood  of  necessary 
food.  Of  course  she's  anxious  to  keep  her  own  home, 
but  she  is  destroying  the  homes  and  happiness  of  a 
score  of  other  women." 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  0/GOOCH  119 

"  But  why  should  you  be  the  one  to  do  this?  Won't 
the  church  suffer?  Won't  she  think  that  you  are  hard 
hearted?" 

"  I  am  not  doing  it.  I  have  stood  between  her  and 
Mark  Owens  who  has  bought  the  mortgage  on  her 
house.  Now  if  she  doesn't  quit  the  business,  I'll  with 
draw  and  let  him  foreclose." 

"  But  where  will  she  go?    What  will  she  do?  " 

"  I've  offered  her  a  place  in  the  kindergarten  at 
Mudtown." 

"  Oh!  did  you?  "  said  Helen  with  a  thrill  of  pleas 
ure  in  her  voice.  The  rector  felt  the  difference. 

"  Come,  take  a  walk  with  me,  Helen,  please.  I'll 
show  you  the  parish." 

Yes,  Helen  would  go.  Down  in  her  heart  there 
was  still  a  desire  to  see  all  of  life  through  the  eyes  of 
Henry  Warne.  So  they  ranged  from  one  straggling 
street  to  another,  past  long  rows  of  company  houses, 
all  built  after  the  same  hideous  pattern  and  all  painted 
the  same  dingy,  metallic  red.  The  gutters  were  choked 
with  filthy  ice,  the  fence  corners  showed  dead  smart- 
weeds  and  burdock  stalks  through  the  snow.  Rusty 
tin  cans  and  old  shoes  driven  full  of  hob  nails  lay  in 
the  middle  of  the  streets.  Gates  sagged.  The  pickets 
of  the  fences  and  the  rails  had  often  been  split  up  for 
kindling.  In  some  places  even  the  posts  had  been 
chopped  down  for  the  same  purpose. 

As  they  walked  they  talked  of  what  Warne  had 
promised,  at  least  to  himself,  to  leave  untouched, 
Helen's  life  since  she  had  chosen  a  missionary  career 
and  refused  to  be  his  wife.  He  asked  swift,  sympa- 


120  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

thetic  questions,  when  once  the  subject  was  fairly  in 
troduced,  and  she  found  the  reserve  which  she  thought 
she  wanted  to  remain  between  them,  melt  away.  As 
the  walk  lengthened  she  saw  that  mission  work  in 
the  slums  of  the  great  city  where  she  had  gone  when 
the  war  in  China  made  the  foreign  field  impossible  to 
her,  was  very  much  like  the  mission  work  for  these 
poor  foreigners  among  the  mines  for  whom  Warne 
was  giving  his  life.  Something  of  the  same  horror 
which  she  had  felt  when  she  and  Kate  Hatton  stood  by 
the  speak-easy  the  night  before  came  over  her. 

"  Let's  go  home,"  Helen  said  at  length,  just  as  the 
rector  himself  had  said  to  his  warden.  "  I  didn't 
dream  that  you  had  so  much  need  here.  O,  Henry, 
isn't  there  some  way  to  make  it  better?  " 

"  Come  and  help  me,  dearest,"  he  said  simply.  "  By 
God's  grace  we  can  do  something." 

Grimy,  sodden  Coalton !  Could  she  make  this  place 
her  home? 

There  would  be  none  of  the  romance  of  missions 
about  life  in  Coalton.  And  yet — it  was  no  new  knowl 
edge  to  the  heart  of  Helen  Vaux  that  to  walk  side  by 
side  and  hand  in  hand  with  Henry  Warne — anywhere 
—was  the  sweetest  earthly  thought  she  had  ever  known. 
Having  felt  once  that  she  must  put  it  aside  for  a  more 
imperative  call,  her  womar's  soul  had  shrunk  from 
confessing  even  to  herself  the  sweetness  of  this  re 
current  thought. 

When  at  last  her  sweet,  grave  face  was  turned  to 
wards  her  lover,  Helen  did  not  answer  with  many 
words,  but  what  she  said  was  enough  to  glorify  to  him 


The  UNDOING  of  the  HOUSE  0/GOOCH  121 

even  the  mountain  of  culm  which  towered  above  them. 
They  walked  home  past  Mrs.  Gooch's  house  in  that 
beautiful  silence  which  needs  no  words. 

The  rector  and  Helen  did  not  visit  Mrs.  Gooch's 
house  again  until  after  the  mine  which  lay  beneath 
Reagan's  Patch  had  suffered  from  a  serious  cave-in. 
Then  they  went  out  to  see  the  damage. 

The  ground  was  cracked  in  long  gaping  seams  clear 
across  the  street.  In  the  mines  below,  a  blast  had 
opened  a  pocket  of  quicksand  and  the  lot  on  which 
Mr.  Gooch  had  built  his  house  was  directly  over  it. 
The  house  had  sunk  until  the  roof  was  nearly  on  a 
level  with  the  street.  The  lean-to  kitchen  with  its 
sheet-iron  roof  had  gone  down  first,  and  the  main  part 
of  the  house  had  tipped  backward  upon  it,  like  a  ship 
going  down  on  its  beam  ends.  The  strip  of  sheathing 
which  the  weather-boards  had  not  covered  was  now 
below  the  level  of  the  ground,  and  the  water  from  the 
gutter  was  pouring  through  it. 

Mrs.  Gooch  and  the  children  had  climbed  out  the 
front  window  when  the  house  began  to  settle  and  some 
of  the  men  from  the  neighbourhood  had  taken  out  a 
part  of  the  furniture  from  the  front  room,  including 
the  coffin  plate  and  the  tissue  paper  flowers.  As  for 
the  beer  kegs  in  the  cellar  and  the  boxes  of  bottles 
they  had  gone  down  first,  followed  by  the  rusty  kitchen 
stove.  Seeing  no  prospect  of  a  successful  establish 
ment  in  Reagan's  Patch,  Mrs.  Gooch  had  bought  a 
new  stock  of  liquors  and  moved  to  Higgin's  Patch  be 
yond  the  boundaries  of  Coalton. 


THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK 


"  Evil  is  urought  by  want  of  thought 
As  well  as  want  of  heart." 

— HOOD. 


VIII 

THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK 

IT  is  not  entirely  certain  what  Bishop  Vaux  would 
have  thought  of  the  fact  that  in  the  back  yard 
of  the  Coalton  rectory  there  was  a  full-blooded 
red  pyle.  There  was  nothing  to  distinguish  the  rec 
tor's  red  pyle  from  any  worldly  fighting-cock.  He 
had  the  same  snaky  head,  the  same  wicked  eyes,  the 
same  powerful  wings;  his  spurs  were  almost  stiff 
enough  to  force  their  way  unshod  through  a  leather 
boot-leg,  let  alone  through  the  neck  of  any  cock  that 
dared  to  stand  up  against  him.  There  is  a  story  that 
the  red  pyle  once  killed  a  weasel  which  was  trying  to 
pick  up  its  breakfast  out  of  a  brood  of  young  game- 
chicks,  actually  driving  his  spur  into  the  creature's 
brain  before  it  could  escape.  But  that  was  before  the 
red  pyle  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  rector,  and  there  is 
no  way  to  verify  the  story. 

Mr.  Warne  never  would  have  owned  him  at  all,  if 
it  had  not  been  for  William  Bugdale.  Bugdale  was 
the  promoter  of  most  of  the  cocking  mains  between 
Coalton  and  Carbonville.  Cock-fights  between  the 
two  rival  places  were  always  popular,  but  the  fight  in 
which  the  rector  won  the  red  pyle  rose  to  the  dignity 
of  an  historic  event.  The  battle  took  place  at  sunset 

125 


126  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

on  the  last  Saturday  night  of  July,  which  was  also 
pay-day.  All  the  sporting  men  of  both  places  were  on 
the  edge  of  the  old  reservoir  above  the  Coalton  breaker. 
Mark  Owens  was  the  referee,  and  Pete  Casey  was  the 
stakeholder.  Three  hundred  dollars  were  put  up  for 
the  best  three  in  five. 

The  main  was  only  fairly  begun.  One  speckled 
two-year-old  from  Coalton  had  been  disabled,  and  the 
red  pyle,  entered  by  the  Coalton  party,  had  just  worsted 
the  Carbonville  bird.  The  third  match  was  beginning, 
when  "  Spike "  Dolan's  boy  slid  down  the  embank 
ment  and  broke  into  the  shouts  and  oaths  of  the  ring 
with  an  excited  gesture: 

"Cheese  it!  Here's  de  preacher!  Mr.  Warne's 
right  out  de  udder  side  o'  de  bank." 

The  men  started  up  uneasily,  the  shouts  sinking 
into  gutteral  silence.  William  Bugdale  profanely  con 
signed  the  rector  to  torment,  and  with  him  all  bishops, 
clergy,  and  laity  who  interfere  with  the  business  of 
other  people,  and  then  gave  as  his  advi'ce  that  the 
fight  go  on  in  spite  of  these  condemned  worthies.  It 
was  this  advice  of  William  Bugdale  that  gave  the 
rector  his  opportunity.  It  would  have  been  better  if 
the  men  had  scattered  until  Mr.  Warne  had  passed  on, 
and  then  come  back  to  settle  the  fight  for  the  cham 
pionship  at  their  leisure  and  in  peace. 

Bruce  Hardin,  who  was  among  the  men,  skulked 
behind  a  pile  of  mine  ties  at  the  first  mention  of  the 
rector's  name. 

"  I  can't  afford  to  be  caught  here,"  he  whispered. 
"  Come  on  with  the  birds,  till  he  goes  away." 


THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK      127 

But  instead  of  catching  up  the  birds  and  retiring 
until  Mr.  Warne  was  safely  out  of  the  way,  young 
Mick  Phelan,  who  had  charge  of  the  remaining  Car- 
bonville  cocks,  untied  the  sacks,  turned  them  all  into 
the  ring  at  once,  and  then  disappeared  before  the 
crowd  from  Coalton  could  punish  him  for  his  treach 
ery.  The  red  pyle,  beset  by  four  birds  at  once,  was 
doing  his  best  to  hold  his  own  in  spite  of  the  terrible 
odds.  Avoiding  their  attack  as  well  as  possible,  he 
finished  the  bird  with  which  he  had  been  fighting,  and 
then  attacked  the  strongest  of  the  three  remaining 
adversaries.  The  Coalton  crowd,  frantic  at  the  sight 
of  their  champion  so  unfairly  matched,  would  have 
trampled  under  foot  the  cocks  of  the  Carbonville  party. 
But  the  referee  instantly  rose  to  the  occasion,  and 
ordered  that  the  remaining  three  birds  of  the  Coalton 
crowd  should  be  added  to  the  ring. 

In  the  meantime  Warne  had  pushed  on  rapidly 
until  he  came  to  the  top  of  the  embankment.  He 
paused  but  an  instant  to  gain  breath  and  to  survey 
the  motley  crowd  below.  Then  he  cried  out,  in  ring 
ing  tones,  "  For  shame,  men !  Have  you  no  manhood, 
to  set  God's  living,  feeling  creatures  to  torture  one 
another  like  that?  " 

Only  a  few  of  the  men  looked  around.  The  rector 
went  on  to  urge  those  nearest  to  him  to  leave  such 
brutal  sport  and  come  with  him  to  separate  the  fight 
ing  roosters.  Some  laughed  uneasily,  others  moved 
away,  while  one  or  two  wavered ;  but,  as  no  one  com 
plied  with  his  exhortations,  the  rector  pressed  through 
the  crowd  alone  to  the  edge  of  the  ring. 


128  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  cocks  were  now  in  battle  royal,  almost  evenly 
matched.  They  paid  not  the  slightest  heed  to  what 
was  going1  on  about  them.  The  rector  waved  nis 
hand  once  or  twice  in  futile  endeavour  to  frighten 
them  apart,  and  was  just  reaching  out  his  umbrella  to 
intercept  the  red  pyle,  when  William  Bugdale  sprang 
forward,  presented  his  brawny  shoulder  under  the 
rector's  outstretched  arm,  whirled  him  quickly  around, 
and,  without  heeding  his  protest,  began  to  push  him 
backward  up  the  hill  toward  the  top  of  the  reservoir. 

The  movement  was  ridiculously  tmclerical, — more 
like  an  awkward  colt  being  backed  out  of  the  wrong 
stall  than  anything  else.  The  minister  never  would  have 
found  himself  in  such  an  undignified  position  if  he  had 
only  stayed  at  home  that  Saturday  night.  There  he 
would  have  been  safe  and  cool  and  away  from  all 
disagreeable  sights  and  sounds.  But  the  rector  had 
a  theory  that  he  got  some  of  his  best  sermons  while 
wandering  about  the  dark  corners  of  his  parish. 
Whether  or  not  this  theory  was  correct,  it  is  certain 
that  some  of  the  preacher's  parishioners  were  disturbed 
in  their  Sabbath  slumbers  as  the  result  of  his  wander 
ings  abroad. 

There  was  really  no  excuse  for  Warne's  being  abroad 
that  Saturday  night.  It  was  only  two  weeks  since  he 
had  brought  Helen  Vaux  to  the  fine  old  rectory  as  his 
wife,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  should  have  been  at 
home  with  her.  He  had  longed  for  years  for  her;  he 
was  profoundly  impressed  with  the  nobility  and  sweet 
ness  of  her  character,  and  was  almost  humbled  by  the 


THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK      129 

loftiness  of  her  ideals.  All  this  made  it  the  more  fitting 
that  he  should  have  been  on  his  own  veranda,  except 
that  it  had  sent  him  forth  to  make  sure  that  Mrs.  Gooch 
was  not  without  food  over  Sunday. 

But,  if  he  must  go,  why  should  he  choose  the  night 
after  pay-day,  of  all  the  days  in  the  month?  Why 
not  wait  until  the  usual  proportion  of  the  wages  of  the 
community  had  got  safely  into  the  hands  of  the  saloon 
keepers  and  the  sporting  fraternity  and  the  men  had 
settled  down  to  grumble  at  the  hard  times  and  poor 
work  about  the  mines?  Nobody  wanted  the  rector  to 
be  abroad  on  pay-night.  His  own  people  die}  not  like 
their  spiritual  adviser  to  see  the  sights  incident  to  that 
lively  season,  and  those  who  were  outside  the  church 
were  still  less  anxious  to  have  him  about, — unless,  in 
deed,  some  member  of  his  flock  happened  to  be  "  mak 
ing  a  holy  show  of  himself  "  about  one  of  the  saloons : 
then  the  scoffers  were  quite  willing  that  Mr.  Warne 
should  see  all  that  was  to  be  seen. 

But  to  have  the  rector  come  upon  a  man  of  his  own 
congregation  drunk  was  one  thing,  while  it  was  quite 
another  matter  to  have  him  catch  the  sporting  element 
of  the  community  in  the  midst  of  a  cock-fight.  There 
might  be  church  law  against  drunkenness,  but  there 
was  statute  law  against  cock-fighting.  Rector  Warne 
was  known  to  deal  very  tenderly  with  the  weak 
brethren  of  his  flock  who  had  fallen  under  the  power 
of  the  cup, — although  the  men  whom  he  visited  and 
with  whom  he  prayed,  did  not  consider  such  interviews 
pleasant.  But  it  was  not  known  just  how  leniently 


i3o  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  rector  would  regard  the  subject  of  cock-fighting. 
Indeed,  it  was  very  seriously  doubted  whether  he  would 
deal  leniently  with  the  offenders  at  all. 

There  is  a  tradition  concerning  old  Father  Hill, 
who  had  been  the  locum  tcnens  in  the  church  of  Car- 
bonville  many  years  before,  that  he  enjoyed  a  match 
as  keenly  as  anyone  else.  One  Sunday  afternoon, 
so  the  story  went,  he  had  chanced  upon  a  crowd  under 
the  lee  of  a  culm-dump  watching  a  couple  of  cocks 
fighting.  The  old  man  was  declared  to  have  said,  "  I 
suppose  they  got  to  fighting  of  their  own  accord, 
boys;  nobody  would  set  them  to  fight  on  Sunday,  I'm 
sure.  Might  as  well  let  them  have  it  out  now;  it's 
got  to  be  settled  some  time."  But  Rector  Warne  was 
not  Father  Hill  by  any  means,  and  it  was  more  than 
suspected  that  he  would  have  called  on  the  police  to 
stop  the  fight,  if  the  promoters  of  the  main  had  not 
taken  care  to  choose  the  reservoir  as  a  battle-ground 
just  because  it  was  outside  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
police. 

It  was  therefore  only  a  partial  relief  when  William 
Bugdale  shouldered  the  rector  to  the  top  of  the  em 
bankment.  Bugdale  paused  a  moment,  purple-faced 
from  his  exertion  and  hot  with  anger.  "  Now  th'd 
better  go,"  he  said.  "  If  I  c'd  lift  th'  hup  this  bank, 
what  does  th'  think  I  c'd  do  to  throw  th'  down  that 
un?" 

"  Parson,"  shouted  Mark  Owens,  not  unkindly, 
"you'd  better  take  a  walk." 

The  rector  stepped  past  Bugdale  and  faced  the  ring 
again.  The  red  pyle  and  his  speckled  foe,  the  only 


THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK      131 

two  that  were  shod  with  steel  spurs  for  fighting,  were 
now  facing  each  other,  panting  and  covered  with 
blood,  each  watching  the  other  for  a  chance  to  strike, 
and  raising  and  lowering  their  heads  as  they  feinted 
and  sparred  for  advantage.  The  men  had  ceased  to 
watch  the  fighting  birds,  and  were  all  looking  up  at 
him.  He  pushed  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  em 
bankment  and  balanced  himself  on  the  crumbling 
reservoir  as  he  did  sometimes  on  the  edge  of  the  pul 
pit  platform  on  Sundays  before  he  began  his  sermon. 

'*  You  may  throw  me  down,  if  you  will, — I  have  no 
doubt  that  you  are  strong  enough  to  do  so,"  he  began, 
in  a  clear,  high  voice,  speaking  to  Bugdale  without 
looking  at  him;  "but  I  will  not  go  down.  Even  if 
you  throw  me  down,  I  will  not  be  silent;  you  must 
hear  me.  Jacob  Breece,  and  you,  Mark  Owens,  and 
you,  William  Bugdale,  and  all  the  rest  of  you  who 
are  engaged  in  this  shameful  business,  you  are  doing 
a  wrong  in  the  sight  of  Almighty  God !  " 

"  When  he  said  Jacob  Breece,"  said  that  individual 
in  telling  the  story  afterwards,  "  it  went  through  me 
same  as  a  knife.  But  it  beats  me  to  this  day  to  know 
'ow  he  saw  me,  when  I  wer'  down  behind  a  pile  o' 
ties,  where  I'd  gone  after  Mick  Phelan  when  he  let 
hall  them  birds  hout  on  my  red  pyle.  Some'ow  I  'ad 
to  stand  hup  when  he  called  me  name,  an'  then  he  went 
on  to  give  it  to  us  the  worst  you  ever  'eard.  The 
Jedgment  Day  won't  be  no  worse.  He  took  us  hup 
before  the  White  Throne  like,  an'  it  kind  o'  seemed 
to  me  as  though  he  wer'  a-goin'  to  be  one  o'  the  wit 
nesses  against  us  hall,  the  way  he  went  for  us  there. 


132  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

His  voice  kep'  gettin'  clearer  an'  solemner, — only  it 
wer'  so  havvful  sad, — an'  then  all  at  once  he  rung  hout 
a  command,  like  he  wer'  blowin'  on  a  trumpet,  an' 
then  stopped: 

" '  In  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jehovah,  I  command 
you  to  stop  this  fight  instantly! ' 

Breece  paused  for  a  moment  in  his  tale,  and  then 
went  on :  "  He  looked  grand — nothin'  short  of  it.  He 
just  looked  hawful,  as  he  stood  there,  in  the  last  red 
o'  the  sunlight,  stretchin'  hup  his  long  harm  an'  never 
movin'  a  muscle,  whilst  you  could  'ear  the  sound  of 
his  voice  come  hechoin'  back  from  the  mountain  above. 
I  felt  as  if  the  bank  would  fall  in  on  me;  an'  I  kind 
o'  wished  it  would.  I  wanted  go  an'  'ide  meself  some- 
wheres — only  it  seemed  as  if  I  couldn't  move.  The 
reservoy  wer'  still  as  a  church,  hall  exceptin'  the 
flappin'  o'  them  birds  down  in  the  middle  of  the  ring-. 
But  nobody  looked  to  see  which  wer'  gettin'  the  best  of 
it.  You  might  'a'  thought  we  wer'  a-waitin'  for  him 
to  begin  to  pray — only,  some'ow,  he  didn't  seem  like 
a  preacher,  either.  I'd  been  to  church  afore  that  night, 
— of  course  I  'ad, — but  when  the  parson  said  it  'ad  to 
stop,  we  never  thought  he  wer'  preachin'  or  nothin' ; 
we  thought  he  meant  it.  I  remember  I  wondered  that 
the  birds  didn't  stop  fightin'  theirselves — an'  them 
jest  gettin'  'ot  an'  wild  with  blood.  It  wasn't  as  if 
some  man  'ad  said  we  wer'  to  stop;  it  wer'  as  if  " 
Breece  sunk  his  voice  as  nearly  into  a  whisper  as  was 
possible  for  him — "  it  wer'  as  if  it  wer'  some  hangel! 

"Did  the  men  mind  him?    Why,  they  'ad  to  mind 
him!    Didn't  I  tell  you  it  was  like  the  Jedgment  Day? 


THE  RECTOR'S  GAME  COCK      133 

Wully  Bugdale  could  easy  'ave  broke  his  face  as  he 
stood  there,  or  pitched  him  'ead  an'  'eels  down  the 
reservoy  bank.  But  he  only  made  two  slidin'  steps 
an'  caught  the  speckled  bird  jest  as  the  red  pyle  wer' 
a-holdin'  him  down  to  carve  his  'ead  hoff.  I  grabbed 
my  red  pyle  right  back  o'  the  wings  an'  whopped  him 
into  the  bag  afore  he  knew  what  wer'  'appenin'. 

"  '  The  match  is  hoff,  permanent,'  says  Bill. 

"  '  I  thank  you,  men,'  says  the  parson.  Then  he 
went  on  to  make  us  a  speech — a  kind  o'  po'try  some 
of  it — about  kindness  to  the  least  o'  God's  creatures; 
but  I  forget  what  it  wer',  hexcept  that  he  said  just 
before  he  stopped  that  hevil  wer'  wrought  for  want 
of  'eart  as  well  as  for  want  o'  thought. 

"  '  He'll  pronounce  the  benedicshee  next,'  says  Bill 
to  me  on  the  quiet.  Then  he  says  hout  loud,  '  This 
'ere  match  bein'  declared  hoff ' 

"  '  It  hain't  been  declared  hoff  yit,'  says  Mick  Phe- 
lan  from  behind  the  pile  o'  ties. 

"  '  Oh,  it's  hoff  all  right  enough,  you  bla'guard !  It 
wer'  you  as  fouled  the  bird,'  says  Mark  Owens, 
swearin'  at  Mick  under  his  breath,  for  the  men  wer' 
afraid  to  touch  Mick  or  even  to  cuss  him  hout  loud 
while  the  rector  wer'  there. 

"  '  I'll  howld  the  bags  fer  ye,  Owens,'  says  Pete 
Casey,  '  while  ye  go  out  behind  the  pile  o'  ties  an' 
cuss  the  little  divil,  so  ye  c'n  give  yer  whole  attintion 
to  the  job.' 

"  '  This  match  bein'  declared  hoff,'  says  Bill  again, 
louder  than  ever,  lookin'  straight  toward  the  pile  o'  ties 
as  he  spoke,  '  yous  sports  c'n  come  an'  git  your  stakes.' 


i34  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  '  I  don't  want  no  stakes,'  says  one  fellow  from 
Mudtown,  '  give  the  boodle  to  the  parson.'  '  Nor  me 
neither ! '  '  Nor  me ! '  yells  one  an'  another. 

"  '  Gentlemen,  I  cannot  take  your  money,'  says  the 
rector,  as  perlite  as  if  he  wer'  refusin'  a  third  cup  o' 
tea  in  a  parlour.  '  You  need  the  money  for  your  fam- 

erlies.  Thank  you  for  your  good  will '  he  says, 

beginnin'  another  speech. 

"  But  Bill  Bugdale  cut  him  short :  '  Yous  men  that 
has  famerlies,  come  an'  git  yer  bood.  You  sports  like 
me  an'  Jake  'ere  an'  Casey  c'n  watch  an'  see  me  put 
hall  that's  left  of  the  stuff  that's  in  this  box  into  the 
'ands  of  Mr.  Warne,  to  use  for  missionaryin' — or  any 
way  he  likes.' 

"  That's  hall.  Only — see  'ere — I  ain't  ashamed  to 
tell  it,  but  it  seems  queer — the  rector  got  'old  o'  some 
o'  us,  'specially  me,  afore  I  left  the  ring,  an'  we  j'ined 
the  confirmation  class.  I've  give  hup  the  drink,  an' 
I'm  goin'  to  be  a  better  man.  I  give  Mr.  Warne  my 
refd  pyle  right  there  in  the  ring  that  night,  an'  I  ain't 
seen  him  since.  The  rector  wer'  goin'  to  invite  his 
Bible-class  around  to  heat  him,  once;  but  I  told  him 
I  hadn't  no  'eart  for  it :  so  he  give  that  hup.  He  tells 
me  now  that  the  red  pyle  is  as  peaceable  as  a  turtle 
dove  an*  stays  'appy  an'  contented-like  in  the  back 
yard  o'  the  rectory.  Poor  fellow!  He's  gettin'  hold, 
I  fancy.  Well,  hall  of  us  has  our  day." 


A   ONE-MULE   MAN 


"  God  made  bees,  and  bees  made  honey, 
God  made  man,  and  man  made  money; 
Pride  made  the  devil,  and  the  devil  made  sin, 
So  God  made  a  coal-pit  to  put  the  devil  in." 

— ANON. 


IX 

A  ONE-MULE  MAN 

HE  was  just  a  one-mule  man.  Not  that  Henry 
Morris  cared  that  it  was  only  a  mule  he 
drove.  The  trouble  was  that  it  was  but  one 
mule.  Indeed,  it  was  not  a  question  of  mules,  but  of 
money,  for  the  man  who  drives  two  mules  in  a  coal 
mine  draws  more  pay  than  a  one-mule  man. 

Morris  had  not  cared  about  the  pay  when  he  used 
to  take  his  money  home  and  throw  it  into  his  mother's 
lap.  But  now,  that  he  and  pretty  Rosy  Kline  were 
sweethearts,  it  fired  him  with  unholy  passion  when 
Buck  Davis  referred  to  him  as  "  that  one-mule  man." 
He  had  fought  with  Buck  and  ground  his  face  into 
the  cinder  walk,  but  this  did  not  alter  the  fact  about 
the  number  of  mules  that  he  drove. 

It  would  be  years,  perhaps,  before  Morris  would 
have  more  than  one  mule.  If  enough  drivers  and 
runners  were  killed,  he  might  be  promoted  rapidly 
enough  to  be  in  a  position  to  marry  Rosy  within  a  year. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  might  be  injured  himself,  and 
then — good-bye  to  Rosy;  for  how  could  a  cripple  ex 
pect  to  win  so  choice  a  bride?  If  he  did  not  get  the 
rise  in  wages  for  which  he  hoped,  somebody  might 
rob  him  of  Rosy.  Anyone  who  had  ever  seen  Rosy 


138  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

would  understand  why  the  thought  made  him  savage. 
Davis  had  a  house  and  a  good  income  to  offer  Rosy, 
and  could  make  her  very  comfortable.  But  then  Davis 
was  too  old  and  a  widower  and  Rosy  didn't  want  him. 

The  evening  before  the  fight  with  Davis,  when 
Morris  and  Rosy  sat  under  the  crab-apple  tree  near 
the  new  company  houses,  he  had  gone  over  a  part  of 
this  with  her.  There  was  a  scent  of  wild  crab-apple 
blossoms  in  the  air,  an  elusive,  indefinable  sweetness 
wholly  foreign  to  the  air  of  the  dingy  settlement  at 
every  other  season  of  the  year.  It  suggested  poetry, 
green  fields,  bird  songs,  serenade  music  in  the  moon 
light, — anything  else  than  the  hard,  black  outlines  of 
the  culm-dump  etched  against  the  steam-whitened  sky. 
The  perfume  had  need  to  bring  suggestions  of  sweet 
sounds  and  green  fields,  for  there  was  absolutely  no 
hint  of  such  things  in  the  landscape.  Everything  green 
except  the  crab-tree  had  perished.  But  the  cows  could 
not  break  it  over,  the  goats  could  not  destroy  it,  and 
Davis,  the  stable  boss,  could  not  cut  it  down  without 
lacerating  his  wrists.  So  it  stood. 

For  one  brief  week  the  children  would  gather  its 
creamy  pink  blossoms;  for  one  day  the  Italian  and 
Hungarian  peasants  would  carry  the  fragrant  circu 
lar  wreaths  and  lay  them  on  the  graves  of  their  dead 
in  the  cemetery,  when  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Re 
public  strewed  flowers  upon  their  fallen  comrades. 
Then  they  would  go  back  to  their  unlovely  toil  and  to 
the  smell  of  cinders  reeking  with  the  gases  and  steam 
of  the  ash  dump. 

While  Morris  and  Rosy  sat  under  the  crab-tree,  he 


A  ONE-MULE  MAN  139 

talked  about  the  possibility  of  injury  to  himself,  and 
she  clung  to  him  in  a  way  that  made  him  dwell  on 
the  subject  to  an  extent  that  any  miner  would  have 
scorned  to  do — unless,  perhaps,  there  was  a  Rosy  to 
do  some  clinging.  Rosy  was  so  charming  that  he  had 
told  her  he  was  ready  to  eat  her  up.  There  is  no  tell 
ing  what  foolish  plan  for  their  immediate  marriage  the 
young  man  might  not  have  persuaded  her  to  accept,  if 
her  mother  had  not  called  Rosy  into  the  house.  Until 
Henry  could  show  in  the  manila  envelope  which  con 
tained  his  monthly  pay  a  sum  sufficient  to  discharge 
the  bill  at  the  store,  and  the  rent,  with  something 
left,  the  mother  would  not  consent  to  listen  to  pro 
posals  of  marriage ;  and  Rosy  could  not  think  of  going 
against  her  mother's  will.  Rosy  had  told  him  this,  as 
gently  as  she  could,  while  they  were  seated  under  the 
crab.  She  had  also  vowed  that  she  would  wait  until 
the  company  intrusted  him  with  another  mule.  But 
Henry  could  not  get  rid  of  the  thought  that  some  man 
might  appear  with  a  bulkier  pay  envelope  and  that  the 
mother,  with  'her  old-country  notions  about  marriage, 
might  force  Rosy  to  accept  the  robber. 

So  on  this  particular  spring  morning  Henry  sat  and 
scowled  at  the  stunted  laurel-bushes  which  grew  about 
the  mouth  of  the  shaft  of  the  Hatton  mine,  while  he 
waited  for  the  cage  to  take  him  down  to  his  mule. 
On  the  way  down  he  heard  the  inside  foreman  telling 
one  of  the  men  that  young  Burt  Hatton  was  to  bring 
down  a  party  of  New  England  coal-dealers  on  that 
day  to  inspect  the  mine.  In  his  heart  Henry  hated  the 
coal-dealers;  for  they  were  responsible,  he  felt,  for  the 


140  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

meager  wages  he  was  paid  and  for  the  one  mule. 
Henry  had  heard  a  Socialist  lecturer,  who  said  that 
the  dealers  fixed  the  price  of  coal  and  the  quantity  to 
be  mined.  He  had  called  the  miners  slaves  of  the 
market.  It  all  sounded  very  grand. 

In  the  meantime  the  members  of  the  Coal-dealers 
Protective  Association  had  not  yet  breakfasted  at  the 
sumptuous  hotel  where  they  were  quartered.  Up  to 
this  time  their  visit  to  the  anthracite  coal  region  had 
been  one  continuous  round  of  banquets,  receptions, 
and  excursions.  Perhaps  there  would  have  been  no 
trouble  at  all  if  that  foolish  Scidmore  had  not  insisted 
that  they  should  see  the  inside  workings  of  the  coal 
mines.  Accordingly,  as  assistant  secretary,  he  had  ar 
ranged  to  have  the  private  electric  car  of  the  president 
of  the  trolley  railway  take  them  to  the  suburbs  of 
Coalton  for  a  trip  through  the  great  Hatton  mine. 
The  secretary-in-chief  would  never  have  consented  to 
such  a  trip  as  this,  if  Scidmore  had  not  settled  the 
matter  without  consulting  the  association. 

Some  of  the  men  hesitated  a  little  about  going  into 
the  mine  because  of  the  danger;  but  the  younger  ele 
ment,  led  by  Scidmore,  were  ready  to  laugh  at  their 
fears.  So  before  they  rightly  knew  what  they  were 
about,  they  found  themselves  huddled  together  in  a 
somewhat  bewildered  group  in  the  main  gangway  of 
the  mine,  which  was  much  like  a  murky  grimy  cellar, 
very  damp  and  very  draughty. 

At  the  foot  of  the  shaft,  they  were  plunged  at  once 
into  the  very  busiest  spot  in  the  mine.  The  inrushing 
air  drawn  by  the  ventilating  fans  caused  the  lights  to 


A  ONE-MULE  MAN  141 

flare  so  that  they  made  but  faint  impression  upon  the 
gloom.  Machinery  crashed  and  roared.  Gongs  and 
warning  bells  jarred  their  nerves  with  the  apprehen 
sion  of  unseen  danger.  The  floor  was  a  network  of 
tracks  and  a  cobweb  of  cables  to  entrap  the  feet.  The 
roof  hung  low  enough  to  menace  their  heads.  Whole 
trains  of  low  mine  cars  that  were  being  shifted  on  the 
switches  threatened  to  crush  the  unwary.  Drivers 
and  switchmen  shouted  warnings  and  imprecations. 
Mules  threaded  their  way  in  the  darkness  and  brushed 
their  shaggy  sides  against  the  well-dressed  brokers.  It 
was  a  Broadway  blockade — in  the  dark. 

Back  from  the  main  shaft  the  character  of  the 
sounds  changed  somewhat.  The  mine  became  sinister. 
Menacing  sounds  lurked  along  the  galleries.  Danger 
crept  up  in  the  dark  and  then  threatened  with  sudden 
malevolence.  The  strange,  far-off  humming  of  the 
cables  running  over  distant  wheels  and  wooden  rollers, 
suddenly  changed  to  the  deafening  rush  of  a  trip  of 
cars  that  seemed  about  to  spring  upon  and  crush  the 
party.  When  this  had  passed,  out  of  the  ominous 
silence  came  the  explosive  throb  of  a  blast,  which 
seemed  to  rock  the  solid  walls  and  threatened  to  bring 
down  a  thousand  feet  of  rock  upon  their  heads. 

At  the  foot  of  the  first  plane  they  found  the  fire- 
boss,  Hudderfield,  known  to  everybody  as  Sunderland 
Red.  Since  the  day  when  as  a  baby  he  was  carried 
into  the  coal  mines  to  cure  the  whooping  cough,  in 
Sunderland,  England,  Hudderfield  had  almost  literally 
grown  up  in  the  mines.  While  others  pined  for  the 
light,  he  thrived  in  the  darkness.  His  stocky  figure  did 


142  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

not  droop,  although  he  had  spent  fifty  years  under 
ground.  As  fire-boss,  it  was  his  business  to  enter 
every  chamber  of  the  mines  each  day  before  the  miners 
came  in  the  morning,  to  test  the  condition  of  the  air 
with  his  safety  lamp  in  order  to  secure  the  men  from 
danger  of  being  burned  by  the  explosion  of  gas  col 
lected  during  the  night.  If  his  chalk-mark  were  lack 
ing  at  the  entrance  of  any  chamber,  the  workman  not 
only  risked  his  own  life  by  going  into  it,  but  the  lives 
of  all  the  men  in  the  mine. 

The  first  spot  which  the  visitors  sought  was  the 
mule  barn.  Here  Davis,  the  stable  boss  reigned.  It 
would  not  do  to  say  that  Davis  was  only  a  mule 
whacker,  although  his  work  was  to  attend  to  the  varied 
needs  of  some  forty  ridge-backed,  singed-bellied  mules, 
with  galled  shoulders,  scraped  legs  or  contracted 
hoofs,  with  here  and  there  an  eye  missing  or  an  ear 
cropped,  with  homicidal  tempers  and  with  tricks 
enough  to  graduate  any  one  of  the  outfit  into  the 
circus.  It  was  no  ordinary  genius  who  could  pre 
side  over  such  an  aggregation.  And  when  to  the 
troubles  of  such  a  situation  was  added  the  oversight 
of  an  equal  number  of  driver  boys,  trained  in  the 
breaker,  it  is  easy  enough  to  understand  why  Davis 
believed  himself  to  be  predestinated  to  end  his  life 
in  an  asylum.  That  is,  of  course,  if  he  should  escape 
violent  death  from  a  fall  of  rock  or  a  runaway  trip 
of  cars,  or,  what  he  regarded  as  much  less  dangerous, 
from  the  hoofs  or  teeth  of  the  mules.  Other  mule 
whackers  have  died  of  lockjaw  through  having  been 


THE  ONE-MULE  MAN  143 

playfully  chewed,  or  have  been  kicked  or  squeezed  to 
an  ignominious  death  by  the  mules  themselves.  But 
Davis  did  not  trouble  himself  about  that. 

Davis,  the  stable  boss,  was  a  specialist.  His  specialty 
was  mules.  Not  only  did  he  feed  them  and  groom  them 
and  harness  them  and  stable  them  in  the  stalls  built 
for  their  use  near  the  foot  of  the  shaft,  but  he  doc 
tored  their  ailments  and  studied  their  happiness.  His 
day  began  at  four  A.  M.  Except  for  a  short  rest 
at  the  breakfast  hour  of  ordinary  mortals,  while  the 
mules  were  busy  in  the  various  gangways  and  cham 
bers  of  the  mines,  he  spent  the  rest  of  the  working  day 
in  the  society  of  the  mules.  If  the  coal  was  coming 
out  rapidly  and  he  had  no  baled  hay  or  grain  to  bring 
down  the  shaft,  he  might  not  see  daylight  for  weeks 
at  a  time. 

While  the  coal  dealers  were  inspecting  the  stable,  sev 
eral  uncomplimentary  remarks  were  made  about  mules. 
Davis  ignored  all  these  until  Scidmore's  insolent  ig 
norance  forced  him  to  speak. 

"  When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  the  mule  ain't  to 
blame.  If  there's  anything  on  top  of  God's  earth  that 
has  a  harder  time  than  a  mule  that  has  to  work  under 
the  earth,  why  I  pity  it.  Ain't  there  some  heathens 
that  think  that  when  you  die  you'll  be  born  over  again 
into  a  beast  or  something,  if  you  don't  play  a  square 
game  the  first  deal?  You  don't  suppose  there's  any 
truth  in  it  do  you?  I  reckon  it  would  keep  a  man 
pretty  near  straight,  if  he  thought  he  might  wake 
up  some  day  and  find  himself  inside  a  mule's  hide 


144  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

a-workin'  in  a  mine!  If  you've  formed  the  habit  of 
makin'  an  ass  of  yourself,  young  man,  you'd  best  take 
warnin'. 

"  I  hear  they're  goin'  to  put  in  electric  motors  to 
haul  the  cars,"  he  went  on  as  if  he  had  not  heard 
the  laugh  of  the  coal  brokers  at  Scidmore's  expense. 
"  If  that's  so,  I  guess  the  Lord  an'  the  Hatton  Coal 
Company  must  love  the  mules.  An'  the  mule  ain't  a 
very  lovable  kind  o'  creetur.  Not  particularly. 
'Specially  after  he's  been  in  the  mines  without  scein' 
daylight  for  a  year  or  so.  They  have  all  sorts  of 
drivers  an'  the  boys  lick  'em  an'  gash  'em  an'  burn 
'em  with  their  lamps  on  the  belly  an'  all  sorts  o'  places 
to  make  'em  pull  more  cars  than  they  ought  to  pull 
up  the  steep  pitches.  By  the  time  a  mule's  been  through 
that  kind  o'  picknickin'  for  eighteen  months  or  so,  he's 
apt  to  get  a  leetle  irritable,  unless  he's  jest  naturally 
too  good  tempered  for  this  world.  If  he's  that  way, 
he'll  lay  down  an'  die.  Fact  is,  most  of  'em  gets  so 
infernal  ornery  before  that  time  that  nobody  can  dc 
nothin'  with  'em." 

"  What  happens  then  ?  "  asked  Scidmore,  who  was 
interested  in  spite  of  his  pique. 

"  O,  when  he  gets  so  naturally  cantankerous  that 
nobody  can  drive  him,  we  h'ist  him  up  the  shaft,  an' 
let  him  spend  a  Sunday  or  a  week  out  doors.  Say,  I 
don't  suppose  you  ever  saw  a  mule  when  he  got  off 
the  cage  at  the  top  o'  the  shaft  ?  It'd  do  you  good.  T 
went  to  school  once — you  wouldn't  believe  it,  but  I 
did.  I  was  there  about  a  month  an'  durin'  that  time 
I  did  somethin'  that  made  the  teacher  mad.  She  said 


THE  ONE-MULE  MAN  145 

she'd  keep  me  in  an'  whip  me  after  school.  That  after 
noon  her  beau  come  to  the  school  for  her,  an'  the 
teacher  let  me  off.  I  ain't  been  back  since.  But  I 
wasn't  no  gladder  than  them  mules  is  when  they  find 
themselves  on  top  o'  ground  'stead  of  under  it.  Why 
they  jest  jump  sideways  all  over  the  pen.  Sometimes 
one  of  'em  will  tremble  all  over,  as  if  he  was  scairt  o' 
the  light  or  the  big  broad  earth  or  something.  Some 
times  he'll  go  feelin'  his  way  'round  with  his  forefeet. 
Sometimes  he'll  lay  down.  Sometimes  he'll  bray! 
It's  all  accordin'  to  his  disposition.  Just  like  men. 
But  he's  glad  all  right  enough !  " 

Then  the  party  must  see  the  actual  work  of  mining. 

Half  an  hour  later  as  they  left  a  chamber  where  they 
had  been  watching  the  process,  a  number  of  men  came 
running  down  the  gangway.  For  a  moment  Hatton 
held  up  his  lamp  and  watched  the  flame.  Then  he  said 
very  quietly,  "  We  go  back  now." 

"  I'm  glad  that  miserable  wind  has  stopped  blow 
ing,"  said  Scidmore.  "  On  the  way  in  it  blew  so  hard 
that  I  could  hardly  keep  my  lamp  burning." 

"  Mr.  Scidmore,"  said  Hatton,  slowly,  "  if  that 
wind  doesn't  blow  again,  in  a  little  while  you  won't 
be  able  to  breathe  this  air.  Something  is  wrong,  and 
we  must  reach  the  foot  of  the  shaft  as  quickly  as 
possible." 

Arriving  at  the  shaft,  the  word  which  had  been  tele 
phoned  down  went  round  that  there  had  been  an  ex 
plosion  in  the  boiler-room,  which  had  stopped  the  ven- 
tilating-fans  and  the  hoisting  machinery.  There  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  climb  the  ladders  to  reach  the 


146  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

top.  Several  of  the  driver  boys  and  younger  miners 
had  already  gone  out  of  sight  up  the  ladders. 

"  This  is  the  worst  hole  we've  been  in  yet — worse 
than  when  the  Street  slumped  last  winter,"  Scidmore 
said. 

"  I  wish  he'd  keep  his  fool  clack  quiet,"  said  some 
one  in  the  rear  of  the  party,  and  the  association  agreed 
with  him. 

When  Hatton  came  up  there  was  a  hush  among  the 
miners  until  he  said,  "  Men,  I  want  our  friends  to 
have  a  chance  to  climb  the  ladders.  You'll  have  to 
help  them.  I'll  stay  here  until  the  last  man  is  out. 
I  want  one  of  you  to  go  with  each  one  in  this  party 
to  show  them  how  to  climb  and  to  help  them,  if  they 
need  help." 

"  I  don't  need  anybody  to  show  me  how  to  climb  a 
ladder!"  blustered  one  young  broker.  "Just  show 
me  the  ladder !  " 

That  the  ladder!  The  elegant  coal-brokers  looked 
at  the  grimy  timbers  built  like  a  log  cabin  around  the 
sides  of  the  shaft,  then  at  the  gray  patch  of  light  in 
the  eternity  above  them,  and  then  into  one  another's 
faces  for  a  moment  in  blank  amazement.  They  fell 
on  Hatton  with  voluble  protests.  They  could  never 
do  it.  Why,  a  fire-escape  was  a  promenade  in  com 
parison  !  Did  he  mean  to  say  that  the  miners  were 
obliged  to  face  such  risks?  It  wasn't  right!  There 
ought  to  be  a  law  to  prohibit  such  risks!  How  far 
was  it  to  the  top  ?  It  was  preposterous ! 

"  That's  the  ladder,  gentlemen.  It  is  the  only  way 
out.  There  is  the  top,  eleven  hundred  feet  above. 


THE  ONE-MULE  MAN  147 

Every  moment  increases  the  danger,  so  the  sooner  you 
start  the  better.  Mr.  Scidmore,  you  take  this  side. 
Morris,  let  somebody  else  take  care  of  that  mule  and 
you  go  with  Mr.  Scidmore.  Here,  Hudderfield,  you 
go  with  this  man.  All  I  can  say  is,  Be  careful.  Take 
it  slowly." 

Morris  and  Scidmore  started  to  climb  together. 

"Did  you  ever  climb  up  this  way  before?"  Scid 
more  asked. 

"  Not  this  shaft,  but  up  the  second  opening,  when  the 
breaker  burned  at  the  top  of  this  shaft.  That  time 
the  shaft  was  full  of  smoke.  We  had  all  we  could  do 
to  get  out." 

Before  the  first  hundred  feet  were  covered,  the 
broker  was  panting  and  trembling  from  the  unaccus 
tomed  exertion. 

"  Better  throw  off  your  coat,  sir,"  Morris  suggested. 

"  I  can't  take  it  off  and  keep  my  hold.  Could  you 
help  me?"  In  a  minute  the  coat  and  vest,  with  Mr. 
Scidmore's  silk  hat,  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft. 

As  each  man  of  the  visiting  party  came  forward  to 
mount  the  ladders,  a  grimy  miner  stepped  out  to  ac 
company  him.  To  the  credit  of  the  miners  let  it  be 
said  that  there  was  no  objection  made,  although  they 
knew  that  elderly  millionaires,  weighing  two  hundred 
or  more,  seldom  keep  up  their  gymnasium  practice. 

"  I  can't  go  any  further  without  resting,"  Mr.  Scid 
more  groaned  presently.  "  I  don't  see  how  I  am  ever 
going  to  get  out  alive.  Put  your  hand  in  my  pocket 
and  take  out  my  watch  and  my  money.  Do  as  I  tell 
you,"  he  commanded,  as  Morris  protested.  "  I'll  give 


148  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

you  what's  in  the  purse,  if  you  get  me  out  of  this  all 
right.  There's  nearly  a  hundred  in  that.  Yes,  I'll 
make  it  two-fifty  if  you  get  me  up." 

"Do  you  think  I'm  a  bloodsucker?  I  ain't  doing 
this  job  for  pay.  I  need  money  just  now  as  bad  as 
anybody;  but  I  don't  have  to  be  bribed  to  help  a  man 
out  of  danger.  Don't  you  know  that  there  are  men  in 
the  mines  who  have  carried  an  injured  dago  up  such 
a  place  as  this  on  their  shoulders,  rather  than  let  him 
die  at  the  foot  of  the  shaft?  Do  you  suppose  I  want 
your  blood  on  my  hands?  I'm  ready  to  do  all  I  can 
for  you ;  and  I  don't  want  your  money,  nohow !  " 

Stifling  waves  of  heat  began  to  surge  upwards,  a 
reek  of  smoke  and  oil.  The  steam  pipes,  in  spite  of 
their  asbestos  coverings,  gave  off  a  large  amount  of 
heat.  One  and  another  of  the  men  began  to  look  up 
wards,  but  the  gray  patch  at  the  top  seemed  as  small 
as  ever.  The  sweltering  climbers  began  to  go  more 
slowly.  Then  Hatton  passed  up  the  word : 

"  Let  the  men  who  are  freshest  pass  on,  while  the 
others  take  turns  resting  on  the  platforms." 

A  little  later  he  called  up :  "  Don't  hold  the  plat 
forms  too  long.  Show  the  men  how  to  rest  at  the 
corners.  Each  miner  must  hang  below  his  com 
panion." 

Presently  there  was  a  swish  of  falling  water,  like 
the  first  big  drops  of  a  thunder-storm.  Hatton 
shouted,  "They've  turned  the  fire-hose  on  us!" 
Whereat  Scidmore  swore.  Morris  looked  at  his  com 
panion  for  a  moment  in  silence. 

"  You  ought  to  thank  God,  young  man,  instead  of 


THE  ONE-MULE  MAN  149 

swearing,"  he  said,  simply.  "  That  drip  of  water  is 
carrying  down  a  current  of  fresh  air  that'll  maybe 
save  our  lives." 

After  a  few  moments  the  air  did  seem  cooler,  and 
although  the  water  fell  faster  and  drenched  them  until 
their  clothes  hung  heavy  on  their  shoulders,  yet  they 
breathed  more  easily  and  climbed  more  steadily. 

Still,  it  was  a  weary  struggle.  Fingers  were  lacer 
ated  and  benumbed;  arms  ached  until  it  seemed  as 
though  they  would  be  drawn  from  their  sockets;  heads 
buzzed  and  swam,  so  that  the  brain  seemed  hardly  to 
direct  the  movements  of  climbing,  while  the  hands 
went  on  fumbling  automatically  for  the  timbers.  No 
man  passed  a  platform  now  without  resting.  It  seemed 
to  the  climber  that  he  had  hardly  begun  to  relax  his 
weary  muscles  and  catch  his  breath  until  some  savage 
face,  which  seemed  in  the  increasing  light  to  be  blacker 
and  more  haggard  than  the  last,  appeared  over  the 
edge  of  the  platform  and  demanded  the  place. 

When  the  brokers  reached  the  top  of  the  shaft,  men 
were  ready  to  seize  each  climber  by  the  arms  and  hoist 
him  into  safety.  The  coal  company's  ambulance  stood 
backed  up  by  the  engine-house.  Carriages  had  been 
summoned,  blankets  were  in  readiness,  and  each  shiver 
ing  coal-dealer  was  wrapped  up  and  hurried  off  to  the 
hotel. 

The  alarm  had  been  given  by  the  blowing  of  a  long 
blast  upon  the  whistle  of  the  breaker.  In  an  incredibly 
short  space  of  time  an  immense  crowd  had  gathered. 
Old  men,  the  clerks  and  drivers  from  the  stores,  bare 
headed  women,  some  with  little  children  in  their  arms, 


150  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

others  with  the  flour  of  baking  day  still  upon  their 
hands  and  reddened  arms,  crowded  about  the  mouth 
of  the  gaping  shaft.  Two  grizzled  miners  held  the 
nozzle  of  the  hose  which  was  pouring  water  into  the 
shaft.  These  passed  back  the  word  that  there  were 
voices  heard  in  the  darkness  below.  The  officials  of 
the  company  were  kept  busy  denying  rumours  that 
there  had  been  loss  of  life.  The  old  men  declared  that 
there  was  no  danger  to  the  workmen,  however  it  might 
go  with  the  visitors.  But  the  women  were  not  to  be 
quieted.  They  had  heard  such  things  before.  If  there 
was  no  danger,  why  was  the  ambulance  there  with 
bandages  for  the  injured,  blankets  for  those  who 
might  be  burned,  and  sheets  for  the  dead,  who  did  not 
need  to  be  warmed  after  the  physical  shock  of  an 
accident. 

Rector  Warne  came  up  soon  after  the  alarm  was 
sounded.  Back  and  forth  among  the  excited  watchers 
he  passed,  now  stopping  to  cheer  some  sobbing  wife 
or  mother,  now  repeating  some  word  of  encourage 
ment  from  the  officials  for  the  comfort  of  some 
anxious  sister. 

"  He  knows  no  more'n  the  rist  iv  us;  "  Mrs.  Phe- 
lan  said,  "  but  he's  a  good  man,  annyhow,  an*  God 
bless  him,  I  say !  " 

The  crowd  of  women  and  children  from  the  village, 
alarmed  by  the  sight  of  the  ambulance,  grew  greater 
every  moment.  As  each  of  the  miners  climbed  out, 
he  was  pounced  upon  by  some  anxious  member  of  his 
family.  The  men  laughed  at  the  needless  excitement 


THE  ONE-MULE  MAN  151 

of  the  women,  but  they  could  not  reassure  those  whose 
fathers  or  husbands  had  not  yet  come  to  the  surface. 

It  was  through  Hatton's  management  that  the  men 
came  up  safely.  He  seemed  to  be  just  where  he  was 
needed  upon  the  ladders,  generally  coming  to  the  re 
lief  of  some  miner  who  found  his  fellow-climber  too 
heavy  a  burden  to  be  sustained  alone.  For  the  last 
two  hundred  feet,  Hatton  had  brought  up  a  double 
guard  of  miners  for  those  members  of  the  party  who 
seemed  likely  to  become  exhausted.  These  two  guards 
climbed  with  their  shoulders  beneath  the  arms  of  their 
burden,  thus  supporting  and  guarding  him  as  well. 

At  last  the  women  were  all  quiet  but  two.  A  little 
apart  from  the  rest,  Rosy  Kline  sat  on  the  bumpers 
of  a  low  mine  car,  her  face  flushed  with  anxiety  yet 
tearless,  rocking  to  and  fro,  and  never  taking  her 
eyes  from  the  shaft.  Her  mother  hovered  over  her, 
weeping  softly.  The  scene  brought  back  the  tragedy 
of  her  own  life,  when  she  had  waited  for  days,  with 
other  agonized  women,  for  the  husband  who  never 
came  back  to  her. 

"  Don't  look  so,  Rosy,  darling,"  she  whispered,  cut 
to  the  heart  by  the  despair  in  Rosy's  face.  "  I  won't 
say  anything  more  against  your  marrying  him.  He 
can  come  and  live  with  us,  and  we'll  get  along  some 
how." 

"  If  he  comes  out,  mother." 

"Don't  say  that,  child;  he'll  come  out  all  right." 

In  the  meantime  Morris  was  having  a  struggle  with 
Mr.  Scidmore,  the  last  of  the  visitors  to  come  up.  The 


152  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

secretary  had  dragged  himself  painfully  up  towards 
the  top  of  the  shaft,  when  some  weakening  of  the 
heart's  action  left  him  limp  and  almost  unconscious, 
a  tremendous  dead  weight  on  Morris's  young  shoul 
ders.  Morris  crowded  him  towards  the  corner,  brac 
ing  his  own  legs  between  the  logs  on  one  side  while 
he  rested  his  back  on  the  other  side,  and  clinging  with 
a  death-grip  to  the  logs  with  one  hand.  With  the 
other  arm  he  managed  to  balance  Mr.  Scidmore's  body 
and  hold  it  against  the  wall,  meantime  calling  for  help 
from  above.  It  was  but  a  little  time  until  a  rope 
was  lowered,  and  the  nerveless  figure  of  Scidmore  was 
hoisted  up  the  shaft. 

It  was  Hatton  himself  who  climbed  back  into  the 
shaft  when  the  rope  was  lowered,  and  who  came  up 
beside  Morris,  the  last  man  to  leave  the  shaft. 

As  soon  as  the  coal  dealers  were  safely  at  the  hotel, 
they  began  with  frantic  haste  to  send  telegrams  to 
their  families.  Scidmore's  message  to  his  wife  was 
typical.  It  read  as  follows : 

"  Disregard  sensational  reports  which  may  be  published  con 
cerning  Hatton  mine  disaster  this  morning.  All  our  party  escaped 
death  and  injury.  Further  engagements  cancelled  and  investi 
gations  abandoned.  Expect  me  home  Saturday." 

It  was  these  telegrams  which  provoked  the  publica 
tion  of  the  facts  regarding  the  accident.  The  city 
editor  of  the  Anthrax  Herald,  had  written  for  his  own 
paper  a  ten  line  item  reciting  the  injury  to  the  fan 
house,  but  the  excitement  which  the  visiting  coal  mag 
nates  showed  seemed  so  amusing  that  he  telegraphed 
a  column  of  stuff  to  a  certain  New  York  paper 


THE  ONE-MULE  MAN  153 

describing  in  detail  the  adventure.     It  appeared  the 
next  day  under  the  heading: 


MILLIONAIRES  IN  A  PLIGHT! 
AN  i  loo-FOOT  SHOWER-BATH 


The  editor  had  an  eye  for  the  picturesque  and  he  had 
never  missed  an  opportunity  since  the  day  he  left  the 
dump  to  enter  the  newspaper  office. 

On  the  second  day  after  his  climb  Mr.  Scidmore  felt 
able  to  leave  his  bed.  Toward  evening  he  presented 
himself  at  the  home  of  Rosy  Kline  inquiring  for 
Morris. 

"  He  hasn't  come  up  from  work  yet,"  Rosy  an 
swered. 

'  You  don't  mean  he  has  gone  back  into  that  dread 
ful  shaft!" 

"  Why,  yes;  they  repaired  the  machinery  in  a  little 
while,  and  he  was  at  work  again  yesterday.  He  can't 
afford  to  be  idle  when  the  mines  work." 

"  Are  you  his  wife?  " 

"  No,  not — not  yet.  A  man  can't  support  a  wife 
on  a  one-mule  job." 

"  Ah!  I  see.  Now  look  here;  if  Morris  could  man 
age  a  big  fellow  like  me,  don't  you  think  he  could 
manage  more  than  one  mule?  " 

"  Of  course  he  could,  if  the  company  would  only 
give  him  a  chance." 


154  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  Well,  the  company  is  going  to  give  him  a  chance. 
I've  been  talking  to  Mr.  Hatton,  and  he  has  promised 
that  he  shall  have  a  place  in  some  new  gangway — run 
ning  cars,  I  think  he  called  it.  That  ought  to  enable 
him  to  support  a  wife.  That's  Mr.  Hatton's  part.  For 
my  own  part,  I  offered  to  pay  your  husband — I  mean 
Mr.  Morris — if  he  would  bring  me  up  alive,  and  he 
grew  angry.  But  if  you  and  he  should  happen  to  get 
married,  and  if  you  should  want  to  use  some  furniture 
which  will  be  put  into  one  of  the  new  houses  down 
here  in  Reagan's  Patch,  I  believe  you  call  it,  the  house 
with  the  wild  crab-apple  tree  in  the  yard — why,  I 
should  be  glad  to  give  you  the  furniture  for  a  wedding 
present." 

When  Rosy  told  Henry  about  it  that  evening,  she 
lamented  that  Mr.  Scidmore  had  gone  before  she  could 
thank  him  properly. 

"  Maybe  he'll  come  to  the  wedding,"  Henry  said, 
"  and  you  and  I  will  thank  him  then." 

"  Who  said  there  was  going  to  be  a  wedding?  "  she 
asked,  saucily.  Then  she  added,  with  a  little  shake 
of  her  head :  "  Mother  says  she'll  give  us  a  pig.  Won't 
•we  be  just  set  up  in  housekeeping?  " 


THE  COST  OF  MINING 


There  are  countless  heroes  who  live  and  die 

Of  whom  we  have  never  heard; 
For  the  great,  big,  brawling  world  goes  by 

With  hardly  a  look  or  word; 
And  one  of  the  bravest  and  best  of  all 

Of  whom  the  list  can  boast 
Is  the  man  who  falls  on  duty's  call, 

The  man  who  dies  at  his  post." 

— ANON. 


A 


X 

THE  COST  OF  MINING 

N  unusual  bulletin,  in  large  capitals,  on  the  out 
side  of  the  frame  office  of  the  Number  Five 
Colliery, 


WORK  TO-MORROW 


An  unwonted  stir  among1  the  men,  both  inside  and  out 
side  the  mine.  New  mine  cars  standing  in  order  on 
the  switches.  New  wire  ropes  on  the  slopes.  Clean 
yellow  sticks  of  timber  here  and  there  beside  the  grimy 
machinery  and  weather-boarding  of  the  breaker.  While 
other  collieries  had  been  working  after  the  strike  the 
Number  Five  mine  had  been  idle.  But  now  work  was 
to  be  resumed.  Three  or  four  men  seated  in  an  office 
which  was  as  beautifully  furnished  as  any  parlour,  had 
decided  that  it  was  time  to  seek  a  dividend  from  this 
particular  piece  of  property.  Nearly  a  thousand  men 
and  boys  would  be  affected  by  this  decision.  No  won 
der  there  was  rejoicing. 

A  long,  hilly  road  of  black  culm  and  cinder,  with  a 
dirty  snow-bank  on  one  side,  chilling  in  the  early 
mountain  twilight.  A  rickety  wagon,  drawn  by  two 

157 


158  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

smoking  horses,  toiling  up  the  hill.  A  forlorn  huddle 
of  furniture,  shaking  and  sliding  as  the  wagon  creaked 
and  the  horses  strained  over  the  hummocks.  A  short, 
gaunt  man  walking  ahead  of  the  team,  a  boy  and  a  girl 
running  beside  him,  and  a  woman  with  a  baby  seated 
with  the  driver.  The  Hetheringtons  were  coming  back 
to  Coalton,  in  the  hope  of  steady  work  and  better  times. 

The  man's  gait  and  appearance  were  those  of  an  old 
man,  although  he  was  but  little  past  thirty.  There  was 
a  peculiarity  in  his  walk  which  made  him  seem  almost 
ape-like  in  his  carriage.  His  head  was  bent,  his 
shoulders  drooped  forward,  his  knees  were  crooked, 
while  his  hands  hung  so  far  to  the  front  of  his  body 
that  they  almost  touched  his  knee-caps.  In  appear 
ance  he  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  the  man-ape  of 
the  tropical  forest. 

It  is  the  stamp  of  the  mines  left  on  the  body  by  years 
spent  under  ground  in  the  narrow  veins  of  coal. 
It  often  happens  that  a  miner  breaks  down  in  health 
at  forty,  after  thirty  years  in  the  mines.  As  soon  as  he 
begins  to  grow  towards  manhood,  he  must  bow  his 
shoulders  and  bend  his  back  all  day  long.  No  wonder 
that  character  as  well  as  figure  suffers  deterioration. 

When  the  man  came  back  to  the  wagon  where  his 
wife  rode  and  lifted  his  head,  his  form  lost  its  abject 
appearance.  His  face  was  kindly  and  noble. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  said. 

"O,  Jim!  Is  this  the  house?  Isn't  this  where  little 
Hungarian  Katya  lived  when  her  man  was  burned  to 
death?" 

"  This  is  the  house." 


THE  COST  OF  MINING  159 

"  And  isn't  this  where  the  Breece  family  lived  when 
their  boy  was  killed;  didn't  the  McCartys  have  the 
fever  here  and  wasn't  there  an  Italian  lived  here  who 
was  arrested  for  murder  ?  " 

"  Now  don't  be  foolish,  little  girl :  it's  the  best  we 
can  do." 

"  O,  Jim,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  go  back  into  the  mines 
again!  Don't  let's  go  into  that  house!  I  can't  bear 
to  have  you  put  your  life  in  danger  for  the  sake  of  me 
and  the  children.  What  would  we  do  if  you  were 
killed  ?  Let's  go  down  to  the  flats  and  work  there.  We 
can  manage  to  live  somehow,  even  if  the  wages  are 
small." 

"  What  makes  you  talk  like  this?  You're  a  miner's 
daughter;  you  should  have  more  pluck." 

"  I  know  I'm  foolish,  but  you  can't  think  how  dread 
ful  it  is  every  time  you  hear  wheels  on  the  road  to  look 
out  for  the  ambulance.  Every  time  it  has  ever  come 
our  way  I  knew  it  was  coming  somehow,  even  if  it  was 
in  the  middle  of  the  night.  It's  bad  enough  to  pass 
the  shed  by  the  mines  and  see  the  great  black  doors 
in  the  back  like  a  hearse  staring  at  you  as  you  pass. 
But  oh,  when  it  turns  up  the  street  towards  the  Patch 
every  woman  is  like  to  faint  she's  that  sick  with  fear 
until  she  knows  the  great,  black  thing  is  not  to  come  to 
her  with  its  load  of  sorrow.  Why  when  that  Hun 
garian  was  brought  home  in  Reagan's  Patch  to  the 
house  next  to  us  I  just  fell  down  with  fright,  I  was 
that  scared.  I've  always  thought  that  was  the  reason 
why  this  baby  was  such  a  timid  little  thing.  You  can't 
help  it,  you  just  feel  you  must  scream  if  the  ugly  thing 


160  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

comes  another  step  nearer  to  you.  Now  if  I  should  see 
it  coming  up  this  long  hill,  I'd  know  it  was  for  me, 
since  there's  no  other  house  up  here.  Don't  let's  go 
into  the  house;  let's  go  back!  "  and  she  began  to  sob 
at  the  prospect. 

Her  husband's  rough  hand  lay  a  moment  on  her  hair. 
"  Come,  little  girl,"  he  said,  "  you  know  we  can't  go 
back.  I  haven't  the  money  to  pay  for  taking  the  things 
back  and  there's  nothing  to  do  there  which  would  keep 
you  and  the  children  from  want.  Besides  the  work  on 
the  flats  kills  me.  I  can't  stand  it  like  I  can  working  in 
the  cool  of  the  mines." 

"  But  Jim  we've  the  twenty  dollars  you  earned  dig 
ging  that  well  on  the  flats.  We  could  live  on  that  for  a 
little  while  until— 

"  I'm  fair  sorry,  little  girl,  about  it — I  oughtn't  to 
have  done  it — at  least  not  without  telling  you  about  it. 
— But  the  twenty  dollars  is  gone — 

"  Why,  Jim,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  had  to  do  it,"  he  went  on  doggedly.  "  Things 
about  the  mines  don't  go  the  way  they  used  to  in  the 
old  days  when  old  Mr.  Hardin  managed  the  business 
himself.  These  big  companies  can't  keep  track  of 
things  the  same  way — 

"  But  Jim,  our  twenty  dollars  ?  What  became  of 
that?  What  has  the  Company  to  do  with  it?  You 
didn't  earn  it  from  the  Company?  " 

"  It  didn't  go  to  the  Company.  It  was  Bruce  Hardin. 
I'm  ashamed  to  tell  you.  I  had  to  pay  twenty  dollars 
to  get  a  job  of  work.  He  wanted  fifty.  It's  timber- 


THE  COST  OF  MINING  161 

ing  and  brattice  work — it's  good  work  and  I  can  soon 
make  it  up." 

"  You  mean  that  you  bribed  the  Company  to  give 
you  work?  " 

"  I  had  to  do  it.  This  young  Bruce  Hardin  got  my 
money  for  the  job." 

"  My  father  would  have  killed  him,  if  he'd  asked 
money  from  him." 

"  It  was  that  or  starve." 

"  Jim,  you've  bribed  them  to  let  them  kill  you !  It 
isn't  right !  " 

"  O,  don't  say  that.  I  know  it  isn't  right,  but  I 
couldn't  help  it.  Many  a  man  lives  to  be  old  working 
in  the  mines  and  never  gets  hurt." 

"  Yes,  and  when  he  gets  old  the  Company  pays  him  a 
boy's  wages  for  tending  door  or  watching  at  nights, — 
that  is  if  he  isn't  too  near  dead  with  miners'  asthma !  " 
Her  mood  had  grown  bitter,  although  the  tears  still 
lay  on  her  cheeks.  But  she  came  down  from  the  wagon 
and  went  into  the  house. 

"  Well  it's  got  a  good  sized  kitchen,  I  will  say  that 
for  it,"  said  the  woman,  carrying  the  fair-haired  baby 
over  the  threshold  of  the  dingy  little  house. 

Presently  she  came  up  from  the  cellar.  "  Why,  Jim, 
this  is  the  very  house  that's  over  that  bad  piece  of  roof 
where  the  heat  and  steam  from  the  mine  comes  up  into 
the  cellar !  " 

"  I  know  it  is.  I've  got  to  timber  up  the  roof  just 
about  under  here  to-night,  so  as  to  let  the  men  go 
safely  to  their  work  in  the  morning." 


162  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  You  may  be  able  to  do  that,  but  what  about  keep 
ing  things  to  eat  in  the  cellar?  And  how  are  you  going 
to  sleep  here  if  you  work  at  night?  You're  a  poor 
sleeper  in  the  daytime  anyhow.  But  here  the  blasts 
under  the  house  will  fairly  shake  you  out  of  bed.  I 
remember  now  that  Ellen  Breece  told  me  when  they 
were  cutting  the  gangway  up  here,  the  shots  they  used 
to  fire  with  dynamite  would  spill  the  water  out  of  the 
kettle  on  the  stove,  and  when  they  were  right  under 
the  house,  they  had  to  wire  the  pipe  fast  to  the  stove 
below  as  well  as  to  the  chimney  above  to  prevent  the 
shock  from  throwing  it  off  every  time." 

"  Well,  well,  it's  the  best  we  can  do.  Let's  get  the 
things  into  the  house  while  I  can  help  you." 

A  man  is  not  of  much  use  at  a  moving,  unless  he 
be  a  handy  man  at  other  times.  Hetherington,  who 
was  skillful  from  much  experience,  soon  set  up  the 
stove  and  wired  the  pipe.  But  the  driver,  a  lout  who 
had  grown  callous  by  having  moved  many  families, 
and  being  anxious  to  be  gone  before  night,  set  the 
goods  out  of  the  wagon  into  the  mud  or  hung  them 
from  the  posts  of  the  dismantled  fence,  from  which 
some  former  tenant  had  burned  the  rails  and  pickets 
for  kindling  wood.  Mrs.  Hetherington  busied  herself 
putting  up  the  bed,  while  the  girl  held  the  baby.  In  the 
meantime  Hetherington  carried  the  boxes  and  trunk 
containing  their  supply  of  clothing  to  the  second  story, 
lighting  himself  by  fastening  his  miner's  lamp  to  the 
top  of  his  boot. 

But  the  baby  soon  grew  too  cross  to  be  neglected, 
and  the  children  were  sleepy  and  so  went  off  to  bed. 


THE  COST  OF  MINING  i6j 

The  mother  toiled  on  after  that,  busy  with  setting1 
things  to  rights,  until  time  for  her  husband  to  leave 
home  to  begin  work  on  the  night  shift,  which  must  be 
in  the  mine  at  eleven  o'clock.  He  ate  his  supper  while 
she  packed  his  dinner  pail.  Then  he  drew  on  his  rubber 
boots  and  tucked  his  oily  overalls  into  their  tops,  put 
on  his  oil-skin  hat,  after  lighting  the  lamp  that  was  at 
tached,  and  took  up  his  tools  to  leave. 

"  Well,  good-bye,  little  girl,"  he  said  leaning  over 
to  kiss  her.  "  Now  be  sure  you  keep  a  good  heart  and 
it'll  all  come  out  right." 

"  Good-bye.  Now  do  be  careful  of  yourself." 
Then  she  threw  herself  beside  the  baby  after  filling 
the  stove  with  coal  and  locking  the  door.  The  baby 
stirred  once  or  twice  during  the  night,  but  the  woman 
slept  on,  wearied  out  with  the  long  ride  on  the  shaking1 
wagon  and  the  heavy  work  of  moving. 

***** 

An  hour  before  daylight  another  team  climbed 
the  hill,  drawing  a  covered  wagon.  It  was  square, 
massive,  top-heavy,  high  enough  for  a  man  to  stand 
erect  inside,  a  gloomy  affair  with  doors  in  the 
back  that  had  panes  of  glass  in  them;  more  like  a 
hearse  than  an  ordinary  wagon.  Two  men  walked 
behind  it  and  two  rode  on  the  seat  with  the  driver. 
The  men  smoked  their  pipes — all  but  one,  Henry 
Morris.  He  lagged  behind  his  companion  as  though 
he  found  his  feet  heavy.  It  was  cold  and  the  winter 
wind  had  frozen  his  water-soaked  trousers  until  they 
crackled  with  each  step;  but  it  was  not  the  cold  that 
made  him  shiver. 


164  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  wagon  was  fitted  with  carefully  adjusted 
springs  so  that  the  load  did  not  joggle  or  slide  as  a 
load  of  furniture  would  have  done,  but  Morris  rushed 
forward  and  lifted  his  hand  as  if  to  steady  the  wagon 
when  it  jolted  over  a  stone  in  the  road. 

Hetherington  was  coming  back  to  the  little  house  on 
the  hill.  Like  a  hero  from  the  field  of  battle  they  were 
bringing  him  home.  With  one  companion  he  had 
been  at  work  in  the  mine  at  the  point  under  his  own 
house  where  the  dangerous  piece  of  roof  lay.  There 
had  been  a  preliminary  fall  of  roof  which  struck  down 
both  men.  Hetherington,  who  was  only  slightly  in 
jured,  had  dragged  his  comrade  into  safety  and  then 
gone  back  into  the  dangerous  gallery  to  warn  the  men 
who  were  still  further  in.  It  is  an  unwritten  law  in 
the  code  of  the  miner  that  no  man  ever  flees  from 
threatened  danger  in  the  mines  leaving  unwarned  those 
who  would  be  in  greater  danger  than  himself,  unless 
all  hope  of  their  escape  is  cut  off.  While  he  was  pass 
ing  a  second  time  beneath  his  house  through  the  dan 
gerous  gangway,  a  second  fall  of  rock  from  the  roof 
occurred  which  crushed  out  the  noble,  patient  spirit. 

When  the  ambulance  reached  the  little  house  on  the 
mountain  side,  Davis  halted  his  mules  in  front  of  the 
ruined  picket  fence  and  the  two  men  climbed  down 
slowly  from  the  seat.  Three  of  the  men,  one  at  the 
front  and  two  behind,  removed  the  load,  while  Morris, 
the  wretch  who  had  drawn  the  lot  and  must  break  the 
news,  knocked  at  the  door.  The  men  pocketed  their 
pipes  and  extinguished  the  lamps  in  their  hats,  all  ex 
cept  the  driver,  who  kept  himself  well  out  of  sight  on 


THE  COST  OF  MINING  165 

the  seat  of  the  ambulance.  In  the  gray  darkness  the 
men  found  their  way  to  the  fence  and  leaned  their 
burden  on  a  post,  waiting  for  the  woman  within  the 
house  to  light  a  lamp  and  open  the  door. 

"  Where's  your  husband  ? — There's  been  an  acci 
dent,  Mrs.  Hetherington," — mumbled  the  wretched 
man  at  the  door.  "  We've  come — that  is,  I  mean, 

we've  brought "  then  the  carefully  prepared 

speech  which  Morris  had  conned  fled  utterly  out  of  his 
mind  and  he  stood  silent. 

"Whist!  man,  a  minit,"  McCarty  broke  into  the 
silence.  "  Kape  the  light  back,  Davis.  Let  me  spake 
it,  Hank,  if  ye  can't  do  better  than  that.  Poor  Jim ! 
He  got  hurted,  mum,  by  a  fall  o'  roof  a  fwile  ago " 

"  Oh,  he's  killed !  "  cried  the  woman,  catching  sight 
of  the  figure  shrouded  with  the  blanket  on  the  oil 
cloth  cover  of  the  mattress.  "  It's  Jim,  she  gasped, 
throwing  herself  beside  the  stretcher  and  reaching  out 
her  arms  as  if  to  grasp  the  body. 

She  would  have  lifted  the  blanket,  but  Morris 
gently  held  her  back.  "  No,  you  mustn't,"  he  man 
aged  to  rasp  out.  "  The  rock  fell  on  his  head."  Blood 
and  coal  dirt  do  not  make  a  sightly  mixture. 

"  Here's  his  watch  and  some  things  we  found  in  his 
pockets.  We  were  afraid  they  might  fall  out  and  get 
lost  on  the  way  down  the  gangway."  But  Mrs.  Heth 
erington  did  not  touch  the  pitiful  bits  of  property  he 
held  out. 

"  O,  Jim !  I  knew  that  you'd  be  brought  home  to 
me  in  that  dreadful  ambulance,  if  you  went  into  the 
mines.  He  can't  speak  to  me!  O,  Jim!  'Jim!"  her 


i66  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

voice  rose  to  a  staccato  and  then  sank  into  silence,  as 
she  knelt  by  the  stretcher. 

"  There,  there,  niver  mind,  mum.  All  of  us  has  to 
come  home  this  way  some  time.  Let  us  bring  him  in," 
said  McCarty  from  the  head  of  the  stretcher.  "  Don't 
wake  the  childer,"  he  added  as  one  of  the  men  stum 
bled  on  the  threshold. 

The  men  stood  around  awkwardly,  nursing  their 
hats.  Even  McCarty  was  silent  now.  "  I  guess  we'd 
better  be  goin',  b'ys,"  he  said  at  length.  "  I'll  sind 
me  wife  right  up,  Mrs.  Hetherington." 

"  I'll  go  straight  to  the  undertaker's,  before  he  has 
his  breakfast,"  said  Morris,  anxious  to  do  something. 

The  men  climbed  into  the  ambulance,  which  drove 
heavily  down  the  hill;  the  children  slept  on;  the 
whistles  blew  to  waken  the  men  for  the  first  regular 
day  shift  of  work  at  the  Number  Five  Colliery  since 
the  strike,  while  the  woman  sat  at  the  head  of  her 
shabby  bed  alone  with  her  dead. 

There  Rector  Warne  found  her,  dry-eyed  and  dazed. 
She  did  not  look  up  even  when  he  had  finished  his 
ministrations. 

Helen  had  gone  with  her  husband.  Mrs.  McCarty, 
who  had  been  with  the  widow  since  morning,  followed 
the  rector  and  Helen  outside  the  door  when  they  came 
to  leave. 

"  That's  just  the  way  she  has  been  all  day  long. 
She  doesn't  speak  nor  ask  for  her  baby  nor  anything. 
That's  just  where  she  sank  down  when  they  brought 
her  husband  home  at  daylight.  I  don't  know  what 
to  do!" 


THE  COST  OF  MINING  167 

"  Where  is  her  baby?  "  Helen  asked. 

"  In  one  of  the  houses  down  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 
There's  a  woman  there  with  a  young  baby,  who  has 
been  keeping  it  all  day  until  she'll  ask  for  it.  It  would 
fret  her  to  nurse  it  if  it  was  here." 

"Won't  you  bring  it  home?"  Helen  asked.  "I 
think  I  can  rouse  her.  If  I  were  in  her  place  and  had 
a  baby  that's  what  would  help  me." 

When  it  was  brought  up  the  hill,  Helen  took  the 
babe  and  laid  it  on  the  foot  of  the  bed  beside  which 
the  woman  sat.  She  did  not  seem  to  see  the  child 
at  first  nor  to  note  its  cry.  Going  close  to  her,  Helen 
bent  down  and  placed  her  hands  on  both  of  the 
woman's  shoulders. 

"  It's  your  baby,  Mrs.  Hetherington,"  she  said 
gently,  as  if  speaking  to  a  child  that  could  not  under 
stand;  "  your  baby — and  his."  She  stooped  down  and 
kissed  her  on  the  forehead.  Then  she  stepped  softly 
from  the  room,  but  as  she  did  so  she  saw  the  woman 
start  from  her  place  and  gather  her  babe  to  her  breast. 


THE  EXPENSE 
OF  TRANSPORTATION 


Sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remembering  happier 

things." 

— TENNYSON. 


XI 

THE  EXPENSE  OF  TRANSPORTATION 

BISHOP  VAUX  was  returning  to  his  home  from 
an  episcopal  tour.      He  was  very  weary  and 
somewhat  lonesome  since  Helen  had  gone  to 
brighten  the  old  rectory  at  Coalton.     He  was  there 
fore  well  satisfied  that  the  car  was  nearly  unoccupied, 
so  that  he  could  have  two  seats  to  himself. 

He  sank  into  a  restful  position  and  looked  out  of 
the  window.  It  was  a  dreary  prospect :  acres  of  black, 
barren  desolation  where  the  waste  from  the  mines  had 
covered  the  earth  or  killed  the  verdure.  Huddled 
along  the  sides  of  the  valley  and  crowded  by  the  tower 
ing  culm  piles  were  the  straggling  homes  of  the 
miners. 

What  inspiration,  moral  or  mental,  could  they  re 
ceive  amid  such  colossal  ugliness?  What  wonder  that 
there  were  crimes  and  debauchery!  The  bishop  felt 
the  pathos  of  the  crowded,  throbbing  life  of  the  dis 
trict  through  which  the  train  was  passing,  and  for 
the  time  being  he  identified  himself  with  the  people. 
He  closed  his  eyes  as  if  in  prayer,  wrhile  the  stately 
liturgy  of  his  church  sounded  in  his  ears :  "  O  God, 
Thou  knowest  us  to  be  set  in  the  midst  of  so  many 
and  great  dangers  that  by  reason  of  the  frailty  of  our 
nature  we  cannot  always  stand  upright." 

171 


172  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  train  stopped  at  Mudtown  station  and  two 
young  women  entered.  One  of  them  was  Mrs.  Henry 
Morris,  whom  the  bishop  remembered  to  have  con 
firmed;  the  other  was  a.  stranger.  There  was  some 
thing  incongruous  about  her  dress  which  a  man  could 
not  well  define.  The  various  articles  of  conventional 
mourning  which  she  wore  bore  evidences  of  having 
been  borrowed  for  the  occasion  and  they  had  not  all 
been  borrowed  from  the  same  person.  Her  black 
gloves  were  new  and  so  was  the  black-bordered  hand 
kerchief  which  she  carried. 

If  there  needed  any  other  proof  that  the  trip  was 
not  taken  for  pleasure  or  for  business,  the  girl's  face 
would  have  been  accepted  as  evidence.  It  was  the 
pert,  doll-baby  face  of  a  "  silk-mill  sissie,"  as  the  girls 
•who  worked  in  the  new  mill  were  called  by  those  who 
felt  themselves  above  that  sort  of  work.  The  indus 
try  was  one  which  had  been  but  recently  introduced. 
It  was  a  well-placed  industry  because  there  were  so 
many  more  girls  in  the  coal  regions  than  could  find 
employment.  But  the  wages  which  the  mills  offered 
were  so  pitifully  small  that  many  miners  refused  to 
let  their  daughters  go  to  work  at  all.  Those  who 
did  work  were  dissatisfied  and  more  than  one  strike 
had  occurred. 

The  girl's  saucy  eyes  were  heavy  and  dark  and  the 
little  mouth  was  drawn  with  grief.  Both  sat  in  abso 
lute  silence.  As  soon  as  the  station  was  left  behind 
and  the  conductor  had  taken  up  their  tickets,  the  girl 
settled  down  to  look  out  the  window,  while  Mrs. 
Morris  anxiously  watched  her  companion.  They  had 


EXPENSE  OF  TRANSPORTATION    173 

no  baggage,  except  a  package  wrapped  in  newspaper, 
which  evidently  contained  a  pair  of  shoes,  more  com 
fortable  than  the  new  ones  worn  by  the  girl,  and  a 
crape  veil,  made  visible  through  a  rent  in  the  wrap 
ping. 

Bishop  Vaux  was  just  beginning  to  read  his  paper 
when  he  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  the  girl  was 
crying.  Then  he  saw  that  her  companion  was  trying 
to  comfort  her.  For  a  mile  or  two  nothing  more  oc 
curred  and  then  the  train  passed  a  way  station  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  which  the  brakeman  announced 
noisily.  The  train  now  began  in  earnest  to  ascend  the 
mountain,  zig-zagging  its  way  towards  the  crest,  not 
by  swinging  around  sharp  curves  but  by  switching 
back  and  forth  in  a  perfect  cat's  staircase.  Half  of  the 
time  the  engine  which  had  started  out  at  the  head  of 
the  train  went  first  and  the  other  half  the  "  pusher," 
which  had  stood  in  the  rear,  led  the  way. 

When  the  train  passed  one  of  these  switches  the 
girl  burst  out  weeping  afresh,  her  poor,  common 
place,  little  face  looking  more  babyish  and  pathetic 
than  ever  in  her  grief.  Mrs.  Morris  was  crying  too, 
but  softly,  as  she  tried  to  comfort  her,  but  although  the 
girl  was  evidently  doing  her  best  to  control  herself,  her 
sobs  grew  deeper  and  stronger.  Soon  she  raised  the 
window  and  turned  her  head  so  far  out  that  the  bishop 
could  not  see  her  face.  But  he  saw  that  the  sobs  shook 
her  whole  frame. 

Now  the  bishop,  like  most  men,  did  not  enjoy  ex 
hibitions  of  grief  which  he  could  not  comfort,  so  he 
rose  and  walked  to  the  back  of  the  car,  thinking  that 


174  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  women  would  be  less  embarrassed  if  left  to  them 
selves. 

The  brakeman  came  in  and  sat  down  in  the  rear 
seat,  ready  to  throw  the  switch  when  they  should 
reach  the  sharp  point  at  Panther  Ledge,  where  the 
train  changed  its  direction  for  the  last  time  before 
reaching  the  crest  of  the  mountain.  The  end  of  the 
switch  ran  out  at  this  point  to  the  edge  of  the  "  hog 
back  "  of  rocks  which  made  the  foundation  of  the 
mountain  until  one  might  look  off  the  edge  of  a  preci 
pice  which  fell  away  several  hundred  feet  in  sheer 
descent. 

"  Bad  place  for  a  runaway  here,"  the  brakeman 
said,  noticing  that  the  bishop  crossed  the  car  to  look 
into  the  ravine  at  the  clusters  of  Italian  shanties,  which 
looked  like  toy  houses  clinging  to  the  creek  bank 
below. 

"  How  could  a  train  run  away  down  here,  when  all 
the  coal  is  hauled  up?  "  he  asked. 

"Break  in  two,"  the  brakeman  said;  "or  the  crew 
go  to  sleep.  Why,  the  men  can't  help  falling  asleep 
sometimes.  They're  human.  Of  course  they  mustn't 
get  caught.  But  they  have  to  sleep  some  time.  Why 
I  know  men  that  will  leave  home  to-day  and  won't 
get  back,  maybe  for  a  week.  You  see  the  road  hasn't 
got  any  good  terminals  at  tide- water  and  so  the  coal 
trains  are  run  in  on  switches  as  near  New  York  as 
they  can  get  and  kept  there  until  there's  room  for 
them  in  the  yards.  If  the  switch  is  located  at  a  tele 
graph  station,  they  may  annul  the  train  and  the  crew 
loses  a  chance  to  make  their  wages  while  they  have 


EXPENSE  OF  TRANSPORTATION    175 

nothin'  to  do;  but  if  the  switch  is  off  a  ways  they  may 
lay  there  for  the  best  part  of  a  week.  That's  when 
the  boys  sleep.  But  they  don't  always  strike  it  so 
lucky.  Sometimes  they  have  to  keep  runnin'  day  and 
night,  hour  and  minute,  for  a  week.  Then  they've 
got  to  catch  their  sleep  where  they  can.  Why  I've 
known  men  that  have  drawn  their  pay  for  fifty-six 
days  in  one  month, — day  and  night,  double  time. 
Such  hogs  for  work  as  that  wouldn't  sleep  at  home 
more  than  a  few  hours  at  a  time  for  a  month.  Old 
Chris,  who  runs  276,  has  got  so  that  he  wakes  up  after 
he's  had  four  or  five  hours  in  bed,  and  if  there's  no 
call  waitin'  for  him  with  the  woman,  he  goes  up  to 
the  round  house  to  find  out  whether  he's  been  dis 
charged. 

"  Why,  I  can't  go  to  sleep  to  this  day  without 
kinkin'  up  my  elbow  like  this,  the  way  I  used  to  hitch 
it  round  the  brake-rod  when  I  was  brakin'  on  the 
coal  train,  to  keep  me  from  tumblin'  off  under  the 
wheels,  if  I  should  happen  to  fall  asleep." 

They  were  just  passing  a  train  of  empty  coal  cars 
on  a  siding  when  the  bishop  looked  off  for  a  mo 
ment  and  when  he  looked  back  he  saw  that  the  girl 
who  had  been  sobbing  so  violently  had  slid  down  on 
the  seat  and  was  resting  on  the  arm  of  her  fellow 
traveller.  Mrs.  Morris  was  shaking  her  and  looking 
back  in  a  frightened  way,  as  if  for  help.  As  there 
were  no  women  on  the  car  the  bishop  now  hastened 
forward  to  offer  his  services. 

Before  he  reached  the  seat,  a  man  who  looked  as 
though  he  might  be  a  physician  had  come  up  and  was 


i;6  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

instructing  the  frightened  woman  to  loosen  the  dress 
of  her  fainting  companion.  Then  while  he  sent  one  of 
the  men  to  the  cooler  for  water  he  turned  to  the  group 
of  travelling  salesmen  and  others  who  had  started 
from  their  seats  and  inquired  for  some  liquor.  One 
of  them  met  the  bishop  in  the  aisle. 

"  Say,  you  haven't  got  a  flask  about  you,  have  you  ? 
Queer !  "  he  went  on,  "  When  you  don't  need  it,  you're 
dead  sure  to  strike  a  gang,  loaded  every  mother's  son 
of  'em,  and  all  wantin'  to  treat.  Now  here's  this  little 
thing  fainted  and  there  isn't  a  man  in  the  whole  outfit 
got  a  drop  on  his  person." 

The  doctor  now  summoned  the  brakeman  while  one 
of  the  salesmen  ruined  the  cheap  crape  on  the  girl's 
dress  with  the  water  he  was  awkwardly  sprinkling 
in  her  face.  Mrs.  Morris  had  ceased  crying  now,  but 
she  kept  calling  piteously,  "  Janet,  wake  up!  O,  Janet, 
speak  to  me !  " 

The  brakeman  then  came  in,  armed  with  a  pint 
bottle  he  had  obtained  from  an  Italian  in  the  immi 
grant  car  ahead,  and  at  the  doctor's  directions  poured 
out  a  small  quantity  in  the  glass  and  held  it  to  the 
girl's  blue  lips.  She  had  recovered  enough  by  this 
time  to  shake  her  head;  but  the  doctor  made  her  drink. 
Then  the  brakeman  threw  two  seats  together,  the 
doctor  offered  his  overcoat  for  a  pillow  and  the  girl 
lay  down.  The  doctor  motioned  all  the  men  away 
except  the  brakeman. 

"  She  seems  to  know  him.  I  can't  make  out  what's 
the  matter  with  her,"  he  said.  "  She  was  shivering 
and  moaning  just  before  she  fainted.  I  could  hear  her 


EXPENSE  OF  TRANSPORTATION    177 

from  where  I  sat,  saying  over  and  over,  '  O !  we're 
coming  to  it !  Coming  to  it ! '  as  though  she  were 
afraid.  It's  some  nervous  excitement  and  it  may  do 
her  good,  perhaps,  to  tell  him  what's  the  matter." 

The  brakeman  leaned  over  the  seat  for  a  minute, 
saying  a  few  words  to  the  girl  and  talking  a  little  more 
to  her  friend.  Then  he  went  out  at  a  signal  from  the 
engineer  and  did  not  come  back  into  the  car  again. 

When  things  had  quieted  down,  the  girl  called  Janet 
lying  with  her  eyes  shut  and  Mrs.  Morris  sitting  oppo 
site  to  her  looking  out  of  the  window,  the  bishop  fol 
lowed  the  brakeman  into  the  smoking  car  to  ask  what 
he  knew  about  the  cause  of  the  girl's  grief. 

"  It's  tough,"  he  said.  "  Just  as  tough  as  you  ever 
see.  Billy  Kline  was  one  of  the  best  men  on  this  di 
vision.  Everybody  liked  him.  I  went  ahead  and 
asked  old  Tom  about  this  girl.  Her  name's  Breece. 
Tom's  the  baggage  master.  Tom  knows  the  little 
plans  of  all  the  fellows.  They  all  take  him  into  their 
confidence  and  he  never  tells  on  one  of  'em — not  so 
long  as  he's  alive. 

"Dead?  Yes;  didn't  I  tell  you?  Billy  was  killed 
night  before  last  back  here  at  Panther  Ledge,  the  long 
switch  we  just  passed.  Train  of  coal  cars  broke  apart 
comin'  up  the  grade.  The  engineer  called  for  brakes, 
and  Billy  ran  back  to  save  the  broken  section  of  the 
train  from  running  off  Panther  Ledge.  He  was  the 
boy  that  saved  the  Company's  property  for  them  all 
right  enough,  for  they  found  where  he'd  put  the  brakes 
on  three  or  four  cars.  He  must  have  stumbled  or  run 
off  the  end  of  the  broken  section  in  the  dark  some- 


178  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

how  and  was  cut  to  pieces  by  the  second  section.  Poor 
fellow !  Wasn't  a  handsomer,  quicker  man  or  a  better 
one  on  this  whole  division. 

"What's  that?  Yes;  that's  his  little  girl.  She's 
goin'  down  to  the  funeral.  The  lodge  has  charge. 
We  sent  a  handsome  floral  piece,  gates  ajar.  I'd  like 
to  go  myself,  but  I  can't  get  off.  The  Company's 
mighty  particular  these  days  since  the  strike.  Won't 
let  men  off  nor  give  them  many  privileges  if  they  be 
long  to  the  Brotherhood. 

"  Old  Tom  says  Billy  and  the  girl  was  goin'  to  be 
•married  after  the  next  pay.  They  did  talk  about 
gettin'  married  quite  a  while  back,  but  then  the  Com 
pany  cut  down  our  wages  and  then  the  strike  come 
and  so  they  had  to  put  it  off.  If  she  was  Billy's  widow 
now  she'd  get  benefit  from  the  lodge,  that's  one  thing. 
But  maybe  it's  better  the  way  it  is.  I  don't  know. 

"Yes;  right  back  there  where  she  went  to  pieces, 
that's  where  Billy  was  killed.  Poor  Billy !  " 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP 


I  held  it  truth,  with  him  who  sings 
To  one  clear  harp  in  divers  tones, 
That  men  may  rise  on  stepping-stones 

Of  their  dead  selves  to  higher  things/' 

— TENNYSON. 


XII 

THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP 

MRS.  GOOCH,  with  bag  and  baggage,  was 
leaving  Higgins's  Patch  because  of  the  Hun 
garians. 

There  was  at  least  one  thing  to  be  said  in  favour 
of  Higgins's  Patch :  it  made  absolutely  no  pretensions. 
It  is  difficult  to  imagine  what  pretensions  such  a  village 
could  make,  unless  it  claimed  to  have  more  microbes 
to  the  cubic  foot  of  air  than  any  other  settlement  in  the 
Anthrax  Valley.  To  be  sure  the  people  would  not 
know  a  microbe  from  a  mastodon,  if  they  could  see  the 
two  together ;  but  it  is  not  likely  they  would  be  unduly 
puffed  up  with  pride  even  if  a  mastodon  were  to  be  un 
earthed  from  the  swamp,  upon  the  edge  of  which  the 
town  was  built. 

There  were  other  villages,  with  almost  as  many 
disease  germs  at  large  in  the  atmosphere,  which  did 
make  pretensions ;  not  scientific  nor  sanitary,  but  social 
pretensions.  There  was  McGuickin's  Patch,  for  in 
stance,  on  the  other  side  of  the  culm  dump,  where  the 
ladies  considered  themselves  really  quite  aristocratic. 
There  was  not  a  single  Hungarian  family  within  their 
exclusive  bounds.  The  McGuickin's  Patchers  turned 
their  noses  still  further  up — for  their  noses  were  well 

181 


182  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

turned  up  by  nature  to  begin  with — at  the  society  of 
Higgins's  Patch. 

"  They  bees  mostly  furriners,"  said  these  patri 
cians,  "  an'  thim  as  ain't  no  more  silf-rispict  than  to 
live  amongst  sich  furriners." 

But  now  even  Mrs.  Gooch  and  Mary  Liz  were  leav 
ing  Higgins's  Patch.  Society  always  tends  to  grow 
more  and  more  exclusive.  Even  the  children  in  Mc- 
Guickin's  Patch  recognised  that  there  was  a  social 
difference  and  they  emphasised  it  by  stoning  off  the 
Hungarian  children  when  they  came  without  their 
mothers  to  pick  coal  on  their  side  of  the  dump.  The 
very  dogs  were  driven  off. 

Besides  children,  who  always  swarm  among  the 
culm  dumps,  there  are  certain  animals  which  are  found 
there.  Goats,  geese,  game  cocks  and  cows.  These 
creatures,  together  with  dogs,  cats,  pigs,  parrots,  fer 
rets  and  white  mice,  are  not  unknown  elsewhere;  but 
some  of  them  have  a  peculiar  significance  in  the  coal 
regions.  They  are  partly  an  index  to  the  nationality 
of  their  owners  and  partly  the  clew  to  their  social' 
standing. 

There  are  the  geese,  for  instance.  These  are  mostly 
Irish,  but  not  the  most  aristocratic  Irish.  They  can 
live  in  the  cook  shanties  of  McGuickin's  Patch  during 
the  winter  and  in  the  open  sewers  in  the  streets  when 
the  freezing  weather  is  past.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
water  in  the  coal  regions.  It  is  pumped  out  of  the 
mines  by  gigantic  steam  pumps.  When  it  has  been 
brought  to  the  surface,  the  coal  company  gives  nature 
an  opportunity  to  take  all  further  care  of  this  water. 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     183 

Hence  there  are  frequent  swamps  and  puddles  of  black 
oil-covered  ooze.  Here  the  geese  thrive.  But  they  are 
not  the  ornamental  water-fowl  of  the  farm-yard  or 
the  park,  for  every  white  feather  is  blackened  with  the 
oily  waste  and  every  crack  of  their  yellow  feet  is 
stained  by  the  culm. 

The  goats  are  Italian.  Pigs  may  be  kept  by  the  Po- 
landers  and  game  cocks  by  the  English,  but  the  goats 
keep  themselves.  Pigeons  must  have  their  cotes  and 
the  cow  her  stable,  but  the  goats  need  nothing;  they 
have  the  earth.  They  will  find  their  own  food,  pro 
vide  their  own  shelter  and  fight  their  own  battles.  So 
they  inherit  the  land  and  no  man  makes  them  afraid. 

The  cow  is  a  hostage  to  fortune  and  a  sign  of  the 
permanency  of  the  family.  She  is  an  aristocrat,  while 
the  dog  is  an  outcast.  Anybody,  even  an  Hungarian, 
can  keep  a  dog;  but  nobody  keeps  a  cow  except  those 
persons  who  own  their  homes  and  who  are  of  a  thrifty 
disposition.  If  a  woman  owns  a  cow  she  sells  milk — 
generally  by  the  pint — and  may  even  have  an  account 
with  the  savings  bank.  The  cow  must  be  stabled, 
which  means  that  the  men  folks  of  the  family  build 
a  shanty  for  her  out  of  sheet-iron  powder-kegs  or 
dynamite  boxes.  These  shanties  are  most  picturesque 
when  their  stencilled  warnings  "  dangerous "  and 
"  high  explosive  "  are  turned  outward  and  nailed  up 
side  down.  But  the  cow  is  not  kept  confined  in  this 
tiny  box  of  a  stable  like  a  cartridge  in  a  case.  She 
wanders  about  the  streets  and  alleys  picking  up  her 
living  of  potato  peelings  and  cabbage  leaves  from  the 
ash  heaps.  Occasionally  there  is  a  garden  and  she 


1 84  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

soon  learns  to  open  gates  or  break  fences  that  she  may 
levy  tribute  on  its  luscious  greenness.  Perhaps  that 
is  why  the  bright  boy  of  the  family  studies  law  or  takes 
to  bar-keeping;  either  to  defend  the  family  cow  be 
fore  the  justice  of  the  peace  or  to  compromise  with  the 
owner  of  the  garden  over  sundry  glasses  of  liquor. 
In  either  case  the  boy  is  likely  to  take  to  politics  eventu 
ally,  so  the  result  is  the  same.  But  it  is  the  possession 
of  the  cow  which  is  the  first  stepping  stone  of  the  fam 
ily  toward  greatness. 

The  Gooches  had  no  animals  of  any  kind,  unless 
a  forlorn,  half-dead  kitten  could  be  counted.  Mary 
Liz  had  rescued  this  kitten  from  a  detachment  of  the 
'Malgamated  Terrors  from  the  coal  breaker.  She  had 
fought  for  the  kitten  with  such  fury  that  even  the 
Terrors  had  been  awed.  After  she  obtained  possession 
of  it,  she  had  nursed  it  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  nurses 
a  sick  baby.  It  had  great  need  for  tender  nursing 
after  its  experience  with  the  breaker  boys. 

But  if  the  kitten  needed  Mary  Liz  as  a  friend,  the 
child  needed  a  comforter  too.  She  wondered  how  it 
would  have  been  if  little  Beatrice  had  lived.  She  had 
loved  her  sister  very  tenderly  and  grieved  for  her  with 
childish  abandonment,  when  the  little  one  panted  her 
life  away  in  an  attack  of  pneumonia.  Mary  Liz  would 
never  forget  how  Mrs.  Warne  had  brought  dainty 
clothes  and  cried  over  the  dead  child  and  over  her. 
She  liked  to  remember  the  waxen  face  and  fingers. 
How  lovely  it  must  be  to  lie  still  forever  in  a  dress  so 
clean  and  with  such  beautiful  white  flowers  in  her  hands 
always ! 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     185 

Until  the  Hungarians  came  to  occupy  the  houses  of 
Higgins's  Patch,  many  of  the  miserable  shanties  had 
been  empty.  The  houses  were  so  old  and  the  tenants 
who  occupied  them  were  so  transient  that  the  owners 
had  found  it  was  not  worth  while  to  try  to  collect  the 
rents.  For  moral  as  well  as  for  physical  reasons  it 
would  have  been  a  good  thing  if  a  general  conflagra 
tion  had  cleared  the  earth  of  Higgins's  Patch. 

But  so  long  as  the  houses  stood,  people  came  and 
went  without  hindrance.  With  no  outside  interfer 
ence  the  inhabitants  lived  in  comparative  peace  with  all 
the  world,  fearing  neither  the  landlord,  the  tax-col 
lector,  nor  the  malaria. 

But  their  peace  was  only  comparative,  for  if  they 
were  free  from  fears  without  they  were  not  always 
free  from  wars  within.  But  now  that  Mrs.  Gooch  was 
moving  away,  it  might  be  that  the  reign  of  perfect 
peace  was  about  to  begin.  In  reality  Mrs.  Gooch 
was  not  leaving  the  town  willingly,  neither  was  her 
departure  on  account  of  her  health,  nor  yet  because  of 
the  society,  altogether.  It  was  rather  for  economic 
reasons. 

Mrs.  Gooch's  ostensible  business  had  been  the  sale 
of  old  rags  and  bottles ;  but  in  reality  she  had  continued 
to  do  a  quiet  little  trade  in  filling  empty  bottles  for 
thirsty  customers.  That  is,  a  rather  quiet  trade.  A 
regard  for  the  truth  makes  it  absolutely  necessary  to 
say  that  the  internal  peace  of  the  town  was  more  often 
disturbed  by  reason  of  the  contents  of  Mrs.  Gooch's 
bottles  than  by  any  other  agency — even  by  the  Hun 
garian  beer  barrels.  By  the  way,  it  was  these  same 


186  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

beer  barrels  that  were  driving  Mrs.  Gooch,  with  her 
modest  bottle  trade,  to  seek  a  more  promising  business 
opening  elsewhere.  The  Hungarians  preferred  to  buy 
directly  from  the  breweries,  so  as  to  get  the  benefit 
of  wholesale  rates.  Thus  does  an  alien  population  dis 
courage  home  industry  and  the  strong  hand  of  capital 
oppress  the  weaker  dealer. 

"  We're  goin'  to  move  this  hafternoon,  Mary  Liz," 
Mrs.  Gooch  had  announced  one  day  in  February. 
"  There's  no  chanst  in  'Iggins's  Patch  for  a  decent 
woman  to  make  a  livin',  since  these  'Ungarians  an'  for 
eigners  has  come  'ere.  I  see  that  the  'Ardin  'ouse  is 
hempty.  That's  where  that  rich  family  lived  that 
once  'eld  all  the  coal  lands  in  this  part  o'  the  Han- 
thrax  Valley.  Well,  some  'as  good  luck  an'  some  'as 
poor,  but  it  seems  we've  'ad  our  share  o'  bad  luck  since 
we  come  to  this  country !  " 

It  was  a  forlorn  day  for  moving.  The  sleet  fell; 
not  the  hard,  buckshotty  kind  of  sleet  that  rolls  off 
when  it  has  done  its  worst  to  blind  its  victim,  but  the 
half-frozen  kind  that  sticks  and  then  freezes  fast. 

Mary  Liz  didn't  like  to  move  on  sleety  days.  She 
was  used  to  moving,  so  far  as  that  went.  The  Gooches 
moved  often — because  Mrs.  Gooch  didn't  like  the 
neighbours,  so  she  said;  but  Mary  Liz  noticed,  at  last, 
that  the  change  always  took  place  after  the  agent  had 
come  vainly  and  angrily  for  the  rent. 

It  wasn't  much  trouble  to  move.  That  was  one  com 
fort.  The  things  could  all  be  loaded  into  a  one-horse 
wagon.  The  stove,  the  table,  the  bedstead  and  some 
barrels  filled  the  bottom  of  the  wagon,  while  the  two 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     187 

chairs  which  they  owned  were  hung  from  the  con 
veniently  projecting  bedposts.  Mary  Liz  always  sat 
on  the  table  and  carried  the  kitten. 

The  Hardin  house,  at  the  foot  of  the  culm  dump, 
was  a  very  old  one.  The  only  reason  why  the  Gooch 
family  deigned  to  occupy  it  was  that  there  were  no 
more  empty  houses  which  the  owners  would  lease  to 
them.  It  was  now  well  known  that  they  never  would 
pay  the  rent,  so  long  as  they  could  hire  for  a  dollar, 
a  team  with  which  to  move. 

The  dismal  house  into  which  Mrs.  Gooch  was  mov 
ing  had  once  been  the  finest  in  the  neighbourhood. 
In  its  palmy  days  it  had  been  the  home  of  the  Hardin 
family  who  had  grown  so  wealthy  through  the  de 
velopment  of  coal  lands.  It  was  there  that  the  beau 
tiful  Mrs.  Hatton,  then  Kate  Hardin,  had  been  born 
and  there  also  that  Bruce  Hardin,  who  was  now  be 
coming  notorious  for  more  reasons  than  one,  had 
grown  up.  When  the  house  was  new  Kate  Hardin's 
mother  had  entered  it  as  a  bride.  That  was  before 
coal  was  discovered.  Then  there  had  been  a  sweet- 
brier  rose  by  the  south  window  and  masses  of  day 
lilies  planted  along  the  walk  to  the  gate.  In  that  day 
Whiskey  Hill  was  still  a  forest  and  the  ground  where 
the  breaker  and  the  dump  were  located  was  the  finest 
bit  of  meadow  in  the  valley. 

The  house  then  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  pine  forest. 
Down  by  the  banks  of  the  creek  the  witch  hazels  shook 
their  horned  pods  and  flung  their  yellow-fingered  blos 
soms  over  the  fallen  leaves  of  November.  Mrs.  Har 
din  as  a  bride  had  been  accustomed  to  cross  the  red- 


i88  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

olent,  needle-carpeted  forest  every  evening  to  meet 
her  husband.  A  few  years  later  little  Kate  scampered 
ahead  of  her  mother,  while  Bruce  sometimes  chased  a 
scarlet  tanager  that  flashed  among  the  thickets  of  hazel 
and  rhododendron  or  worried  a  chipmunk  hiding 
among  the  fragments  of  white  pudding-stone  piled 
into  a  rude  fence  beside  the  path. 

Then  the  railroad  came  and  spoiled  the  meadow 
and  frightened  the  orioles  from  their  swaying  nest  in 
the  elm  tree  by  the  gate.  Then  Mr.  Hardin  had  be 
come  joint  owner  in  the  breaker  which  sprang  up  in 
the  meadow.  He  grew  rich  by  buying  land  adjacent  to 
his  own,  retaining  the  coal  and  selling  the  surface 
in  town  lots  as  the  town  of  Coalton  grew  in  his  direc 
tion.  Before  the  dump  had  completely  ruined  the  view 
from  the  porch  of  his  home,  he  left  it  to  move  into 
the  most  desirable  house  in  Coalton  away  from  the 
increasing  grime  and  clamour  of  the  breaker. 

But  if  the  breaker  had  made  life  in  the  Hardin 
house  intolerable  in  the  early  days  of  comparative 
cleanliness  and  leisurely  methods,  how  much  less  bear 
able  when  improved  machinery  brought  hundreds  of 
tons  of  coal  to  the  surface  every  day.  When  the 
second  shaft  was  driven  through  the  quicksand  of 
the  valley,  great  air  compressors  had  filled  the  caisson 
which  was  sunk  into  the  shaft.  This  compressed  air 
also  carried  up  a  continual  stream  of  water,  mud  and 
stones  to  the  surface,  flinging  forth  as  if  from  a  mortar 
a  six-inch  stream  as  many  times  per  minute  as  men 
working  under  the  awful  forty-pound  pressure  of  the 
air  in  the  caisson  could  manipulate  the  machinery. 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     189 

Only  a  little  less  violent  was  the  new  mechanism  for 
discharging1  the  waste  from  the  breaker  after  the  shaft 
had  been  finished  and  the  mine  put  into  operation.  A 
black  geyser  of  oily  mud  vomited  forth  from  the  foot 
of  the  breaker,  blighting  every  living  thing  it  touched, 
while  an  inky  banner  of  dust  streamed  from  the  rolls 
above  toward  the  house  on  the  hillside. 

Added  to  all  these  discomforts  was  the  shrieking  of 
the  machinery  of  the  breaker.  Endless  chains,  pre 
cisely  like  those  of  a  bicycle  except  that  the  links  were 
nearly  two  feet  long,  armed  with  scoops  or  scrapers, 
conveyed  the  coal  to  the  breaker  screens.  The  grind 
ing  clamour  of  the  insatiable  rolls  and  the  infernal 
stridor  of  the  chains  assaulted  the  ear  incessantly  until 
it  ached  for  silence. 

Amid  such  surroundings  what  wonder  that  the 
home  of  the  Hardin  family  soon  fell  under  blight  and 
decay.  The  green  perished  from  the  trees  and  shrubs 
and  left  them  bare  and  blackened.  The  house  be 
came  covered  with  grime  until  from  the  roof  to  the 
foundation  it  was  one  monotone  of  ashy  black.  The 
yard  became  the  thoroughfare  for  many  feet  which 
trod  the  path  that  skirted  the  dump.  The  fence  and 
the  outbuildings  were  used  for  kindling.  The  lilies 
were  tramped  to  death.  Last  of  all  the  sweet-brier 
gave  up  its  beautiful  life,  choked  with  the  gas  gener 
ated  by  the  fire  which  had  begun  to  eat  into  the  heart 
of  the  dump. 

When  Mrs.  Gooch  moved  into  the  Hardin  home 
stead  the  fire  had  been  burning  night  and  day,  sum 
mer  and  winter  for  some  three  years.  Except  when 


190  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

the  wind  came  from  the  south,  there  was  always  a 
strong  smell  of  sulphur  gas.  The  heap  did  not  burn 
very  rapidly  because  there  was  a  good  deal  of  slate 
mixed  with  the  coal  dust.  Farther  down,  where  the 
fire  had  burned  itself  out,  there  were  fantastic  pillars 
of  cinder,  varying  in  colour  from  pinkish  red  to  purple 
and  black. 

Every  night  the  fire  changed  its  shape  a  little. 
When  the  Goodies  first  moved  it  was  like  a  red  sore 
eating  its  way  into  the  heart  of  the  heap.  Then 
it  slowly  grew  larger,  until  it  looked  like  a  huge  capital 
V  turned  upside  down.  After  several  days  the  cor 
ners  rounded  off  until  it  looked  like  an  enormous 
grinning  skull,  with  a  great  yawning  mouth  at  the 
bottom.  The  fire  could  not  be  seen  on  bright  days, 
for  then  the  dump  seemed  to  be  only  a  reddish  heap 
of  ashes;  but  at  night  the  coals  were  fiery  red,  with 
long  tongues  of  blue  and  yellow  flame  chasing  one 
another  along  the  lurid  mass. 

Mary  Liz  used  to  watch  these  changes  from  the 
window  of  the  one  habitable  room  upstairs  as  she  lay 
in  bed  at  night.  Sometimes  when  there  had  been  a 
good  deal  of  fresh  culm  dumped  on  during  the  day 
and  the  fire  burned  with  especial  fierceness,  the  flames 
frightened  her.  Then  her  little,  white  face  would 
grow  whiter  as  she  watched  them.  She  almost  feared 
to  go  to  sleep  lest  the  hungry  flames  should  leap  across 
and  devour  the  miserable  shell  of  a  house.  At  other 
times,  when  she  was  cold  and  lonely  during  her 
mother's  absence  at  nights,  the  great,  glowing  bed  of 
coals  seemed  like  a  friend  and  comforter. 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     191 

One  morning  her  mother  came  home  drunk.  This 
did  not  happen  very  often ;  but  there  had  been  a  raffle 
the  night  before  in  one  of  the  saloons  on  Whiskey  Hill, 
at  which  Mrs.  Gooch  had  won  a  red  plush  picture 
frame.  Having  no  pictures  of  any  kind,  she  sold  the 
prize  back  to  the  saloon-keeper  and  celebrated  her 
good  fortune. 

"Why  'aven't  you  some'at  to  heat  in  the  'ouse?" 
her  mother  demanded  unreasonably.  "  I  must  'ave 
me  meat  an'  me  drink  reg'lar,  or  I  can't  do  me  work." 

Now  this  was  the  unkindest  question  of  all,  for 
Mary  Liz  had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  noon  of  the 
day  before. 

"  What  'ave  you  done  with  the  meat  I  brought  'ome 
last  night  ?  There  was  enough  for  two  days  an'  you've 
heat  the  'ole  of  it." 

"  Why,  mother,  hinny,  you  never  come  home  last 
night  at  all.  I  stayed  the  whole  night  alone  in  the 
house,"  cried  Mary  Liz,  forgetting  for  the  moment 
that  she  must  not  contradict  her  mother  when  she 
was  drunk. 

Then  Mrs.  Gooch  grew  angry.  "  You've  carried  it 
hoff  an'  'id  it.  You're  no  better  nor  a  thief.  An' 
then  you'll  lie  to  me  an'  say  I  never  brought  no  meat 
to  the  'ouse,  not  so  much  as  a  loaf  or  a  'erring.  You're 
naught  but  a  bla'guard  an'  a  thief  " — and  much  more 
to  the  same  effect. 

The  matter  ended  by  Mrs.  Gooch  locking  the  weep 
ing  child  into  the  house  for  punishment  and  going 
back  to  the  village. 

It  happened  on  this  particular  day  that  the  wind 


i92  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

was  driving  the  ashes  and  coal  gas  from  the  burning 
pile  straight  through  the  cracks  and  broken  window- 
panes  into  the  upper  room  where  Mary  Liz  was  im 
prisoned.  She  tried  to  stuff  the  empty  sash  with  an 
old  ticking,  but  the  choking  gas  seemed  to  come  in  as 
badly  as  ever. 

When  her  mother  came  home,  after  vainly  trying  to 
get  more  credit  for  liquor  at  Casey's,  she  found  Mary 
Liz  in  a  forlorn  heap  on  the  floor,  her  face  flushed, 
her  eyes  swollen  and  her  breath  coming  in  laboured 
gasps. 

"  The  girl's  sulphured,  that's  what's  the  matter 
with  her,"  said  the  neighour  to  whom  Mrs.  Gooch, 
now  partly  sobered,  had  carried  Mary  Liz  for  help. 
"  Here,  you  loosen  her  dress,  while  I  go  down  to  the 
creek  for  some  water." 

"  It's  good  you  found  her  when  you  did,"  panted 
Mrs.  Dolan,  while  she  poured  the  water  over  Mary 
Liz's  neck  and  chest.  "  A  little  more  would  have 
finished  her." 

In  the  afternoon,  when  the  breaker  whistle  blew 
"all  over;  work  to-morrow,"  Sunderland  Red  ap 
peared.  Nobody  ever  wondered  or  took  offence  when 
his  big,  kindly  face  looked  in  at  the  door,  without 
invitation. 

"  I  hear  that  the  little  one  was  a  bit  sulphured  this 
morning,"  he  said  in  a  kindly  tone.  "  But  I  see  from 
the  look  of  her  that  she'll  get  over  it  finely." 

When  he  was  leaving  he  paused  by  the  door  to  say : 
"  There's  that  which  is  worse  than  sulphur  that  you've 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     193 

brought  into  the  life  of  Mary  Liz,  Mrs.  Gooch.  May 
hap,  she'll  not  get  rid  of  that." 

"I  can  attend  to  that,  Mr.  'Udderfield."  Mrs. 
Gooch  tightened  up  the  muscles  of  her  mouth  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Not  without  His  help,  I've  tried  it  alone  and  I 
couldn't  do  it,"  he  said  simply.  "  Mrs.  Gooch,  you 
had  a  good  mother,  I  doubt  not;  will  Mary  Liz  be 
able  to  say  as  much  for  hers  ?  Will  she  remember  that 
her  mother  knelt  by  her  bed  at  night  alongside  of  her 
and  soothed  her  to  sleep  with  a  prayer?  " 

Mrs.  Gooch  tightened  her  lip  still  more  and  the  old 
man  slipped  out. 

For  a  month  and  more  Mrs.  Gooch  kept  as  careful 
watch  over  Mary  Liz  as  though  she  had  not  been 
eight  years  old  and  well  able,  by  long  experience  to 
care  for  herself.  Whenever  the  north  wind  blew  the 
gas  into  the  little  house  at  nights,  they  slept  at  Mrs. 
Dolan's.  When  the  gas  was  bad  by  day  Mrs.  Gooch 
went  off  to  Whiskey  Hill  and  Mary  Liz  went  to  the 
coal  sheds  if  it  was  wet,  or  played  by  the  side  of 
Anthrax  Creek  if  the  weather  was  fine. 

One  day  in  May  when  Mrs.  Gooch  had  been  away 
to  help  Mrs.  Casey,  Mary  Liz  sat  on  the  top  of  the 
culm  heap  waiting  for  her  mother  to  return  with  the 
supper.  When  it  had  grown  almost  dark  she  made 
out  the  figure  of  her  mother  coming  unsteadily  toward 
her  along  the  top  of  the  culm  bank. 

There  was  a  steep  path  from  the  top  of  the  moun 
tain  of  coal  dirt  to  the  door  of  the  little  house  below, 


i94  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

but  Mrs.  Gooch  was  in  no  condition  to-night  to  take 
this  short  cut.  Besides,  the  fire  had  eaten  its  way  close 
to  the  top  of  the  heap  where  the  path  began. 

"  Let  me  have  the  basket,  mother;  and  do  take  care, 
it's  so  dark  going  down  this  path." 

Now  Mrs.  Gooch  always  returned  from  Casey's 
in  a  bad  temper.  It  angered  her  to-night  to  think  that 
Mary  Liz  had  detected  so  soon  that  she  was  not  fit 
to  take  care  of  herself.  So,  when  Mary  Liz  clutched 
at  her  dress  as  her  mother  stumbled,  her  wrath  blazed 
out  into  abuse. 

However  it  was,  whether  she  stepped  aside  to  let 
Mary  Liz  pass,  or  whether  she  tried  to  strike  her,  she 
sprawled  backwards  heavily  and  in  another  moment 
was  sliding  down  the  bank  away  from  the  path  to 
wards  the  fire. 

Mary  Liz  sprang  forward  to  catch  her  mother  and 
instantly  felt  herself  slipping  with  an  avalanche  of 
coal  dust  down  toward  the  terrible  blue  flames. 

The  motion  was  not  very  rapid.  She  could  see  her 
mother's  white,  scared  face  in  the  darkness  and  she 
had  time  to  catch  her  round  the  neck  and  help  her 
into  a  partly  sitting  position  before  the  moving  mass 
settled  into  the  fiery  crater.  Then  the  sliding  grew 
slower  and  stopped,  leaving  them  on  a  little,  black 
island  in  the  midst  of  the  ring  of  fire. 

Mrs.  Gooch  was  flinging  her  hands  and  screaming 
but  Mary  Liz  did  not  hesitate.  Partly  through  in 
stinct,  partly  through  conviction  that  they  never  could 
climb  up  to  the  path  again  through  the  suffocating 


THE  BURNING  CULM  DUMP     195 

dust  and  fire,  she  seized  her  mother's  hand  and  started 
for  the  foot  of  the  bank. 

"Come  on!  Quick!"  was  all  she  said;  and  her 
mother,  awed  into  silent  obedience,  followed  by  her 
side. 

It  was  a  dreadful  journey.  Deep  down  into  the 
hot,  stifling  ashes  they  sank.  Although  they  threw 
themselves  forward  with  all  their  strength,  it  seemed 
that  they  hardly  moved  onward.  Then  the  heat  be 
came  more  intense,  the  pain  sharper  and  sharper,  until 
at  last,  when  it  seemed  to  Mary  Liz  that  she  could 
hold  her  breath  no  longer  and  that  she  was  burning 
all  over,  she  found  that  they  were  stumbling  on  firm 
ground  once  more  and  that  the  agonizing  fight  for  life 
had  come  to  an  end. 

Here  Hudderfield  found  them,  Mrs.  Gooch  moaning 
over  Mary  Liz  as  she  lay  with  her  feet  in  the  muddy 
waters  of  Anthrax  Creek,  her  brown  hair  singed  and 
her  scanty  skirts  burned  almost  to  the  waist. 

Mrs.  Gooch  need  not  have  been  afraid  that  the  old 
man  would  then  renew  his  often  repeated  admonitions 
upon  her  drinking  habits.  No  woman's  hand  could 
have  been  more  tender  than  his  hardened  hands  as 
he  lifted  them  into  the  ambulance  of  the  Company 
which  he  had  summoned  to  take  them  to  the  hospital, 
lie  was  used  to  suffering,  and  if  it  had  been  himself 
he  would  not  have  made  a  moan;  but  there  were  tears 
in  his  eyes  when  he  thought  of  the  profitless  agony 
and  he  cried  "  Poor  child,  poor  child !  "  into  the  empty 
darkness  of  the  shadow  which  the  dump  cast. 


196  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

That  week  Mrs.  Gooch's  furniture  was  moved  once 
more.  This  time  it  was  by  Rector  Warne,  who  stored 
it  in  his  barn.  The  house  beside  the  dump  was  torn 
down  and  the  yard  used  as  a  place  to  dump  ashes  from 
the  furnaces. 

Two  weeks  later  Mrs.  Gooch  was  discharged  from 
the  city  hospital,  but  it  was  more  than  three  months 
before  Mary  Liz  was  well  enough  to  leave.  When  at 
last  she  and  her  mother  sat  down  in  the  kitchen  of 
the  home  where  Mrs.  Gooch  had  taken  service,  her 
mother  said  in  an  embarrassed  sort  of  way: 

"  You're  to  go  to  school,  Mary  Liz,  Mr.  Warne 
says.  And — Mary  Liz — you — needn't  be  afryde  o' 
me  any  more.  When  I  went  to  see  about  me  things, 
Casey  met  me  an'  giv'  me  a  pint  flask  of  liquor.  I 
went  down  to  the  foot  of  the  dump  an' — flung  it  into 
the  flames.  An'  there,  by  God's  'elp,  it  shall  stay." 


A  MAGYAR  PARADISE 


"A  child's  sob  in  the  darkness  curses  deeper 
Than  a  strong  man  in  his  wrath." 

— E.  B.  BROWNING. 


XIII 

A  MAGYAR  PARADISE 

THERE  were  seven  electric  buttons  ranged  along 
the  front  of  the  rosewood  desk  of  the  Old 
Mogul,  waiting  to  be  pushed.  The  Old  Mo 
gul  was  looking  over  his  mail  and  talking  to  his  caller 
in  a  jerky  fashion  at  the  same  time.  Every  now  and 
then  he  would  push  one  of  these  buttons  in  an  absent- 
minded  sort  of  way.  When  the  Old  Mogul  pressed 
any  one  of  those  buttons,  somebody  at  the  other  end 
of  the  wire  usually  jumped.  If  he  failed  to  jump, 
there  was  an  explosion  of  wrath  on  the  part  of  the 
Old  Mogul. 

The  Magyar  kindergarten  started  with  the  press 
ing  of  one  of  those  ivory-headed  buttons.  Rector 
Warne  had  called  by  appointment  and  found  the  Old 
Mogul  busy.  In  fact  Mr.  Hatton  had  forgotten  all 
about  the  appointment  and  at  first  was  disposed  not 
to  see  his  visitor. 

"  Be  quick !  "  he  said.  "  Until  I  get  our  new  branch 
road  in  running  order,  I  have  to  work  days  and  nights 
and  Sundays;  but  I  have  all  the  rest  of  the  time  to 
myself." 

With  this  encouraging  remark  to  spur  him  on,  the 
rector  stated  his  case  in  behalf  of  the  kindergarten 
as  forcibly  and  as  briefly  as  he  could.  But  he  had 

199 


200  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

hardly  begun  to  talk  before  the  Old  Mogul  made  an 
attack  upon  the  pile  of  mail  before  him.  He  opened 
letter  after  letter,  while  the  rector  poured  his  very 
soul  into  his  plea  for  the  helpless  children  growing  up 
in  utter  neglect  and  ignorance.  His  plea  grew  fainter, 
and  his  carefully  prepared  eloquence  of  facts  seemed 
to  fail  him,  as  the  mass  of  papers  spread  wider  and 
farther  upon  the  desk;  but  when  the  millionaire,  hav 
ing  exhausted  his  pile  of  letters,  reached  for  the  morn 
ing  paper,  the  rector,  his  voice  choking  into  a  half- 
articulate  murmur  of  disappointment,  rose  to  leave. 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  experience  for  Warne  to 
visit  the  Old  Mogul  to  plead  for  money.  In  the  days 
when  he  had  first  undertaken  the  management  of  his 
father's  estate  Warne  thought  that  the  Old  Mogul 
must  seek  him.  Then  he  found  that  the  railroad 
president  by  a  sharp  manoeuvre  of  the  stock  market 
had  turned  the  tables  and  had  ruined  him. 

The  loss  of  his  estate  had  made  several  things  hard 
for  him.  He  thought  it  would  prove  hard  to  ask  Helen 
to  share  his  life  work,  but  no  two  people  ever  enjoyed 
comparative  poverty  more  than  had  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Warne  during  the  two  years  that  'had  passed  since 
Helen  came  to  the  rectory. 

Only  a  few  weeks  before,  a  wonderful  event  had 
happened,  the  like  of  which  had  not  occurred  in  the 
staid  old  house  for  more  than  a  score  of  years.  In  the 
sunniest  room  of  the  rectory  in  the  midst  of  a  mass  of 
soft  cambrics  and  filmy  woollens  that  were  marvellous 
to  behold  in  themselves,  was  hidden  away  die  greatest 
wonder  of  all,  the  mystery  of  a  new  life. 


A  MAGYAR  PARADISE  201 

However  deeply  this  new-found  marvel  had  affected 
the  rector,  he  never  would  have  dreamed  of  bringing 
such  matters  to  the  attention  of  the  Old  Mogul,  if  it 
had  not  happened  that  a  few  days  after  the  birth  of 
his  own  child  a  Hungarian  child  had  been  born  in  the 
Patch  at  Number  Four.  Its  mother  was  a  stranger 
from  Lithuania.  Her  dialect  being  somewhat  differ 
ent  from  that  of  any  of  the  other  denizens  of  the  cos 
mopolitan  Patch,  she  had  found  no  welcome  await 
ing  her  when  she  arrived  from  Europe.  Her  hus 
band,  who  had  left  his  bride  a  few  months  before, 
had  sent  his  best  month's  wages  to  pay  the  passage  to 
America.  When  the  woman  reached  the  Patch  she 
found  that  his  spine  had  been  injured  by  a  fall  of  roof 
in  the  mines  and  that  he  had  been  taken  to  the  hos 
pital  at  Carbonville.  Twice  every  week,  as  often  as 
the  rules  of  the  institution  permitted  visitors,  she 
spent  the  afternoon  by  his  bedside.  One  day  she 
did  not  come  and  on  the  next  the  boarding  frau  went 
to  the  hospital  to  say  that  the  neighbours,  attracted 
by  the  cries  of  a  new  born  child,  had  broken  into  the 
house  to  find  that  the  wife  had  suffered  alone  the 
agonies  of  the  primal  curse,  only  to  die  when  she  had 
brought  forth  her  son. 

The  rector  had  not  meant  to  tell  this,  but  the  ap 
parent  indifference  of  the  Old  Mogul  to  the  needs 
of  the  people  for  whom  he  was  pleading  so  wrought 
upon  his  feelings  that  before  he  rightly  realized  what 
he  was  doing  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  the 
recital. 

Then  the  Old  Mogul  pressed  the  button. 


302  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  Hold  on,"  he  said  to  the  rector,  at  the  same  time 
turning  to  his  private  secretary  who  came  in  answer  to 
the  bell.  "  Barrett,  we've  no  Huns  on  our  pay-roll  at 
Number  Four  now,  have  we?  " 

"  Lot's  of  them." 

"  I  thought  we  cleaned  them  out  when  we  bought 
the  Graham  houses?  " 

"  So  we  did." 

"  Then  how  in  thunder  did  they  get  back?  Must  I 
be  hetcheled  every  week  about  those  infernal  Huns? 
I  gave  specific  directions  that  no  more  houses  were 
to  be  rented  to  shanty  bosses  or  boarding  fraus.  Why 
wasn't  that  attended  to?  "  The  Old  Mogul  hammered 
the  rosewood  desk  with  his  fist  as  he  spoke. 

"  It  was  attended  to.  The  place  is  full  of  Huns, 
but  they  don't  keep  boarding  shanties  any  longer. 
They've  sent  to  the  old  country  for  their  wives  and 
families.  Some  of  them  have  bought  their  homes. 
We  never  could  have  sold  the  houses  to  anybody  else 
in  the  world.  Those  who  own  their  houses  may  keep 
a  few  boarders." 

"  This  man  says  that  the  place  is  full  of  children !  " 
,     "  It  swarms  with  them." 
.'     "  That'll  do." 

The  Old  Mogul  waited  until  his  secretary  was  out 
of  hearing.  Then  he  turned  toward  the  rector  with 
the  air  of  a  man  keeping  up  his  defence. 

"  Why  do  you  come  to  us  about  these  kids?  Why 
can't  they  go  to  the  public  schools.  I'm  sure  we  pay 
taxes  enough.  We've  paid  thousands  of  dollars  in  that 
township.  And  what's  the  good  of  it?  Men  are 


A  MAGYAR  PARADISE  203 

elected  on  the  school  board  who  can  hardly  write  their 
names."  The  Old  Mogul  seemed  about  to  pound  the 
desk  again,  but  the  rector  never  winced. 

"  A  set  of  thieves,  too,"  he  went  on.  "  Why,  some 
time  ago  one  of  these  fellows  moved  out  of  one  of  our 
houses  into  the  city.  He  hadn't  worked  at  anything 
for  years.  But  he  took  with  him  lace  curtains,  fine 
new  carpets  and  a  handsome  piano!  Out  of  that  five- 
roomed  shanty,  mind  you !  He  hadn't  done  a  thing  but 
live  like  a  lord  off  us  all  these  years.  Living  on  the 
proceeds  yet,  like  as  not." 

"  If  you  feel  that  way  about  it,  why  don't  you  go  to 
work  to  stop  it.  I  should  be  glad  to  help  you 
fight." 

"By  gravy,  we  will;  and  I'll  hold  you  to  your 
promise." 

"  Then  don't  you  think  you  could  afford  to  give  me 
for  this  kindergarten  some  of  the  money  that  they  are 
stealing?  " 

The  Old  Mogul  was  not  without  a  sense  of  humour. 
"  But  you  haven't  told  me  why  they  can't  go  to  the 
public  school?  "  he  said. 

"  You  haven't  given  me  a  chance.  But  I'll  tell  you 
now.  There  is  no  school  in  Graham's  Patch.  Besides 
they  can't  speak  English,  and  they  have  no  way  to 
learn." 

"  If  that's  the  case,  what  do  you  propose  to  do?  " 

The  rector  brightened  up  again,  presenting  a  new 
series  of  facts  obtained  from  the  census  reports,  the 
assessment  lists  and  the  school  register  of  the  town 
ship.  "  I  want  to  give  these  children  a  chance.  You 


204  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

believe  in  fair  play,  so  I  came  to  you.  Your  company 
brought  these  people  here,  so  you  ought  to  help  us. 
We  propose  to  open  a  kindergarten  for  their  children; 
mix  up  these  foreign  children  with  some  English- 
speaking  children;  prepare  them  for  the  public  school, 
and  at  the  same  time  teach  them  something  good  in 
stead  of  letting  them  learn  all  sorts  of  evil  on  the 
streets.  You  believe  in  that,  don't  you  ?  " 

The  Old  Mogul  drew  out  a  small  leather-covered 
book  and  wrote  rapidly.  In  a  minute  he  turned  and 
handed  the  rector  a  slip  of  pale  green  paper  with  some 
figures  written  on  it,  which  fairly  took  away  his  breath. 

"  I  suppose  you're  right  when  you  say  we're  re 
sponsible  for  getting  these  people  here,  and  that  we 
must  look  after  them.  If  you  can  run  a  school  of  this 
sort  for  a  year  at  the  figure  you  name,  you  may  count 
on  us  for  that  much  annually.  But,  remember,  nothing 
more." 

Then  the  Old  Mogul  pushed  another  button  and  the 
interview  came  to  an  end.  Time,  eleven  minutes. 

Number  Four,  as  it  is  marked  on  the  maps  of  the 
coal  company,  or  Graham's  Patch,  as  it  is  called  by 
the  agents  of  the  installment  houses,  does  not  appear 
on  the  county  maps.  It  has  neither  name  nor  corpo 
rate  existence,  being  only  part  of  a  township  which 
stretches  for  miles  over  barren  mountains,  which  are 
almost  uninhabited  except  here  and  there  where  the 
coal  measures  were  spared  in  the  erosion  that  took 
place  during  the  Glacial  Age.  The  village  does  not 
contain  so  much  as  a  store.  It  used  to  have  a  company 
store  in  the  old  days  before  the  individual  coal  oper- 


A  MAGYAR  PARADISE  205 

ators  were  driven  out  of  business  by  the  large  com 
panies. 

In  those  palmy  days  before  the  labour  unions  began 
their  war  upon  the  companies  through  contract  labour 
laws  and  anti-store-scrip  bills,  the  companies  used 
to  hire  their  men  in  Europe,  compel  them  to  live  in 
company  houses,  pay  them  in  company  scrip,  and  force 
them  to  buy  their  goods  at  the  company  store,  which 
sold  everything  at  the  highest  prices  from  cradles  to 
coffins.  In  those  days  the  company  retained  a  part 
of  the  men's  wages  to  pay  the  company  doctor  and,  in 
some  cases  even,  another  portion  of  the  wages  for 
the  company  priest.  The  company  sold  everything, 
food,  fuel,  clothing  and  furniture.  It  touched  the 
miner's  life  at  every  point  from  birth  to  death.  It 
even  administered  a  "  keg  fund  "  insurance  company 
for  the  benefit  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  the 
men  who  were  killed.  If  the  miner  went  outside  of 
the  company's  jurisdiction  during  his  lifetime,  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  have  his  scrip  money  discounted 
into  legal  United  States  money. 

Number  Four  was  one  of  a  chain  of  villages  which 
have  grown  up  around  the  coal  breakers.  Although 
there  were  more  than  seven  hundred  people  within  its 
bounds,  there  were,  at  the  last  election,  only  nine 
voters.  There  was  no  saloon  within  the  straitened 
limits  of  the  village,  for  the  company  would  not  allow 
any  of  its  houses  to  be  used  for  the  sale  of  liquor; 
but  that  did  not  hinder  the  delivery-wagons  from  the 
brewery  in  the  adjacent  city  from  leaving  kegs  of 
beer  at  the  various  houses  immediately  after  pay-day. 


206  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Besides  this,  whiskey,  by  the  drink  or  by  the  bucketful, 
could  be  bought  across  the  swamp  from  Casey  the 
squatter,  who  had  some  sort  of  title  to  the  land 
and  a  still  more  doubtful  right  to  sell  liquor.  Thus 
it  will  be  seen  that,  however  a  community  can  man 
age  to  exist  without  store,  post-office,  school  or  church 
in  the  anthracite  coal  regions,  the  sacred  liberties  of  its 
inhabitants  must  not  be  abridged  by  depriving  them  of 
the  opportunity  to  get  drunk. 

Into  this  community  the  kindergarten  came;  later, 
the  community  came  into  the  kindergarten, — but  not 
until  the  slow,  suspicious  foreigners  had  convinced 
themselves  that  there  was  no  scheme  on  foot  to  make 
financial  profit  out  of  them.  If  he  had  to  begin  over 
again,  the  rector  would  lend  impressive  interest  to 
his  enterprise  by  taking  with  him  on  his  first  round 
a  policeman  in  full  uniform.  The  first  answer  where 
he  succeeded  in  making  himself  understood  was  in 
variably,  "  Me  got  no  money." 

The  kindergarten  was  started  in  the  building  which 
had  once  been  used  as  a  company  store.  The  room 
was  made  attractive  by  pictures,  flowers  and  after 
ward  by  the  work  of  the  children  themselves.  Soon 
the  old  store  room  became  the  brightest  spot  in  the 
lives  of  the  little  Magyars,  who  had  absolutely  no 
place  else  to  play  in  but  the  filthy  streets. 

On  the  hills  about  the  village  there  were  sinkages, 
where  the  earth  gaped  with  dangerous  cracks,  or  fell 
into  great  holes  when  the  miners  "  robbed  the  pillars  " 
underneath ;  in  the  valley  there  was  a  slump  of  black 
mud  from  the  culm  pile,  which  killed  the  few  hemlocks 


A  MAGYAR  PARADISE  207 

and  the  hazel  bushes  which  were  left  along  the  banks 
of  the  creek. 

There  had  been  one  large  rock  maple  left  at  the 
upper  edge  of  the  town,  the  only  shade-tree  in  sight. 
But  the  children  broke  the  fence  which  ran  beneath 
its  shade  by  climbing  upon  the  rails  to  tie  strands  of 
old  wire  cable  to  the  limbs  of  the  tree  for  a  swing.  This 
set  the  Company's  mules  at  liberty.  Then  the  stable- 
boss  ordered  the  tree  to  be  cut  down  and  the  chil 
dren  see-sawed  across  beer  barrels  in  the  sun.  That 
was  before  the  kindergarten  opened.  After  it  had 
been  in  operation  for  a  month  Casey  summed  up  the 
sentiment  of  the  community  when  he  said: 

"  Sure,  it's  thim  Hungarians  that's  the  most  for- 
chunate  people  in  the  valley  in  these  days.  I  was 
down  be  this  new  school  the  other  day  an'  seen  thim 
clancin'  an'  gallivantin'  around  inside.  It's  that  con- 
tinted  they  are,  that  they'll  niver  want  to  lave  the 
place  even  to  go  to  Hivin." 

Why  should  they?    To  them  it  was  Heaven. 


THE  SCHOOL 
IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH 


Go  out,  children,  from  the  mine  and  from  the  city, 
Sing  out,  children,  as  the  little  thrushes  do; 
Pluck  your  handfuls  of  the  meadow  cowslips  pretty, 
Laugh  aloud,  to  feel  your  fingers  let  them  through! 
But  they  answer,  'Are  your  coivslips  of  the  meadows 
Like  our  weeds  anear  the  mine? 
Leave  us  quiet  in  the  dark  of  the  coal-shadows 
From  your  pleasures  fair  and  fine! ' 

— E.  B.  BROWNING, 


XIV 

THE  SCHOOL  IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH 

THE  whistle  of  the  Hatton  breaker  had  blown 
the  long  blast  which  meant  "  Work  over 
for  the  day."  The  men,  with  blackened  faces 
and  garments,  were  straggling  homeward,  while  the 
wives  at  home  began  hurrying  the  kitchen  fires  so  that 
their  husbands  might  not  be  kept  waiting  for  supper 
when  they  reached  home. 

Henry  Morris  came  rather  later  than  the  rest.  He 
had  been  made  assistant  foreman  in  the  mine  and 
his  new  duties  kept  him  longer  than  the  men.  Two 
little  fair-haired  toddlers  stood  by  the  gate  under  the 
wild  crab  apple  tree  watching  for  his  return.  While 
he  was  still  far  down  the  street  they  recognized  him, 
in  spite  of  the  disfiguring  black  upon  his  face.  They 
raced  towards  h'im,  hand  in  hand,  and  seized  his  square 
dinner  pail. 

He  would  not  let  them  touch  him  for  he  was  inky 
black.  There  was  nothing  of  the  African's  oily  brown 
in  the  color  of  his  skin ;  it  was  rather  like  dusty  ebony. 

The  children  quickly  rifled  his  dinner  pail,  the 
scraps  of  bread  and  pieces  of  cheese  seeming  to  them 
far  more  tasty  than  the  choicest  dish  that  would  pres 
ently  be  brought  steaming  to  the  supper  table. 

211 


212  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Just  before  he  reached  home  the  rector  overtook 
him. 

"  Mr.  Warne,  that's  a  great  scheme  of  yours." 

"I'm  sure  of  it.  Which  one  do  you  mean?" 
Whatever  else  might  be  charged  against  his  ministry, 
the  rector  never  failed  to  keep  new  work  laid  out  for 
his  people  to  take  up. 

"  Why  the  school  for  the  Huns'  and  the  dagoes' 
kids  down  at  Number  Four.  It's  great." 

"  Why  do  you  think  it's  great  ?  " 

"  Oh,  because  I  know  how  it  was  myself.  Boys  that 
live  here  about  the  mines  won't  go  to  school." 

"  Why  not.     Didn't  you  go  to  school?  " 

"  Not  much.  What  I  learned  I  got  mostly  after  I 
grew  up.  You  see  the  boys  get  used  to  playing  on  the 
streets.  The  drivers  of  the  beer  wagons  give  them 
rides  and  the  delivery  men  take  them  around  to  do 
errands  for  them.  When  they  get  older  they  go  swim 
ming,  or  hop  the  coal  trains.  No  wonder  school  is 
dead  slow  for  them." 

"  I  thought  it  was  their  mothers  who  took  them  out 
of  school  to  set  them  to  work." 

"  Some  of  them  may  be  set  to  work  before  they  are 
of  legal  age  to  keep  them  out  of  danger." 

"  Do  you  think  the  boys  really  learn  to  dislike 
school  before  they  are  old  enough  to  be  enrolled  ?  " 

"  I  know  it.  Here  the  other  night  I  saw  a  gang 
of  little  fellows,  some  of  them  no  older  than  my  Karl, 
stealing  sand  from  a  Lithuanian  down  here  under  the 
electric  light.  There  was  any  quantity  of  sand  in  the 
street;  but  the  boys  wanted  to  devil  the  Jew  who  had 


SCHOOL  IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH   213 

paid  for  the  building  sand  to  repair  his  cellar  wall. 
The  poor  fellow  don't  know  much  English  except 
swear  words  and  the  boys  thought  it  was  very  amus 
ing  to  hear  him  get  the  cuss  words  wrong.  They  stop 
ped  when  I  shamed  them  and  a  few  of  them  came  into 
my  house  with  the  fellows  I  teach." 

"  What  do  you  mean  about  teaching  them  in  your 
house?  " 

"  Oh,  my  buddy  and  some  of  the  rest  of  the  fellows 
come  every  night  and  I  do  the  best  I  can  for  them. 
Some  of  them  have  been  coming  for  about  two  years." 

"  Why,  Henry,  I  didn't  know  before  that  you  were 
a  teacher." 

"  You  don't  know  it  yet.  I  can  only  help  them  a 
little.  But  it's  better  than  to  have  them  hanging  about 
Mark  Owens'  saloon,  or  plaguing  the  life  out  of  Let 
tish  Joe,  down  by  the  light.  They're  not  drinking 
fellows — not  yet.  But  they  soon  get  at  it,  if  they've 
no  place  to  go  but  the  saloon." 

"  Henry,  I  think  that's  fine;  may  I  come  down  to 
night?" 

On  the  night  when  Warne  and  Helen  visited  the 
little  home  by  the  wild  crab  apple  tree  they  found 
rather  a  motley  gathering  of  men  and  boys  about  the 
kitchen  table.  The  rector  by  their  invitation  gave 
suggestions  here  and  there  concerning  their  lessons, 
while  Helen  and  Rosy  discussed  the  relative  acquire 
ments  of  their  babies  in  the  front  room. 

That  was  the  beginning.  When  the  rector  offered 
the  use  of  the  kindergarten  room  and  promised  to 
supply  other  teachers  for  this  evening  school  the  men 


214  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

gladly  accepted.  Here  afterward  Sunderland  Red 
found  a  place  for  work.  But  there  were  comparatively 
few  of  those  who  did  not  speak  English  who  could  be 
persuaded  to  come  to  the  school.  That  difficulty  must 
be  met  in  another  way. 

It  was  Mark  Owens  who  explained  the  method  by 
which  this  could  be  done.  "  You've  got  to  ketch  a  Hi 
or  a  Hun  while  he's  young,  if  you  want  to  make  a  de 
cent  white  man  out  of  him.  If  you  don't  get  him 
while  he's  young,  smash  him  up  in  the  mines  or  under 
the  cars  and  keep  him  in  the  hospital  for  a  year  or  two. 
By  that  time  he's  beginnin'  to  get  white  and  you  can 
get  some  ideas  into  his  head  somewhere  this  side  of 
the  flood." 

It  was  because  she  had  caught  them  young  that  the 
teacher  of  the  kindergarten  had  been  so  successful  in 
cleaning  up  and  civilising  the  young  foreign  savages 
of  the  Number  Four  Patch. 

When  the  little  scholars  came  into  the  kindergarten 
room  flooded  with  light  from  the  large  show  windows, 
yet  cool,  clean  and  ample,  cheerful  with  pictures  of 
animals,  birds  and  copies  of  the  Old  Masters  instead 
of  the  dingy  saints  of  their  own  narrow  homes,  they 
invariably  stood  still  for  a  time  somewhat  dazed  by 
their  surroundings.  The  room  seemed  to  them  almost 
like  an  entrance  to  Heaven. 

But  if  the  room,  after  the  removal  of  the  counters, 
might  be  likened  to  Heaven — by  some  stretch  of  the 
imagination — the  teacher  was  surely  one  of  the  shin 
ing  angels.  Before  the  rector  had  transformed  the 
Old  Mogul's  check  into  clay,  blocks,  cards,  and  all  the 


SCHOOL  IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH   215 

dainty  knick-knacks  for  the  kindergarten,  he  wrestled 
with  the  problem  of  obtaining  a  teacher.  What  kind 
of  kindergartner  could  be  found  for  four  hundred  dol 
lars  a  year  ?  That  depends. 

In  this  case  it  depended  upon  the  self-sacri 
ficing  zeal  of  the  teacher,  who  had  been  rejected  by 
the  missionary  board  of  her  church  because  there  were 
no  funds  to  send  her  to  the  home  field.  So  the  Rector 
found  a  teacher,  one  of  a  thousand  even  among  those 
choicest  of  all  the  chosen  ones,  the  true  kindergartners. 
Of  Bohemian  blood,  she  was  able  also  to  speak  the 
Magyar  language,  and  so  found  ready  access  to  the 
hearts  and  homes  of  the  Graham's  Patchers.  With 
the  missionary  spirit  of  the  ancient  Bohemian  Brethren 
in  her  heart,  it  was  all  that  Rector  Warne  could  do  to 
keep  her  from  a  modern  martyrdom  by  working  herself 
to  death. 

After  having  taught  her  kindergarten  in  the  morn 
ing  she  spent  five  evenings  every  week  in  the  night- 
school.  She  also  taught  a  sewing-school  on  Saturday 
afternoons,  with  occasional  instruction  in  dressmak 
ing  to  the  little  mothers  who  brought  the  babies  to  the 
kindergarten  and  then  stayed  because  it  was  so  pleas 
ant.  Besides  aJl  this  and  her  visiting  in  the  homes  of 
her  scholars,  she  did  as  much  Sunday-school  and  mis 
sionary  work  as  could  be  crowded  into  her  day  of  rest. 
She  did  not  know  that  this  was  heroic;  she  did  not 
even  suspect  it.  She  was  simply  a  somewhat  frail- 
looking  missionary  teacher  doing  an  obscure  work 
among  some  neglected  Magyars  in  a  pocket  among 
the  hills  in  the  slums  of  the  Pennsylvania  coal  fields. 


216  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

A  kindergarten  is  no  longer  an  unusual  sight,  but 
such  a  school  as  that  in  Graham's  Patch  could  not  be 
duplicated,  probably,  outside  of  the  coal  regions.  The 
children  kept  coming  until  there  were  forty  queer, 
Magyar  names  on  the  roll  with  an  average  attendance 
of  thirty-three. 

"  How  do  you  manage  to  take  care  of  so  many?  " 
asked  Warne. 

"  Why,  I  have  to,"  she  replied  brightly. 

"  But  suppose  more  needy  children  come  in  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  not  exactly  anxious  for  more  children; 
but  they're  so  neglected  at  home,  that  I  ought  to  let 
them  stay,  even  if  I  can't  do  them  justice. 

"Why  not  let  some  of  the  older  children  go?" 

"O,  I  can't  do  that,  Mr.  Warne!  They're  begin 
ning  to  be  so  loving  toward  me  and  so  much  more 
gentle  toward  each  other.  It  would  break  their  hearts 
if  I  should  turn  them  out  into  the  street  again." 

So  the  rector  was  obliged  to  prohibit  positively  any 
further  increase  of  membership. 

They  were  not  quite  all  Magyars,  however.  There 
was  Rosy  Kline-Morris's  little  flaxen-haired,  German- 
American  Karl.  At  the  same  time  that  his  mother 
brought  him,  Hungarian  Katya  brought  her  two 
swarthy  little  girls.  The  two  nationalities  stared  at 
one  another  half-shyly,  hali-belligerently  for  a  while. 
Their  back  yards  joined  but  Katya  was  a  "  foreigner  " 
because  she  had  waited  to  cross  the  sea  until  she  was 
a  woman  grown  while  Rosy  had  left  the  Fatherland 
as  an  infant.  Both  mothers  stayed  for  a  time  watch- 


SCHOOL  IN   GRAHAM'S  PATCH   217 

ing  the  children  at  their  games  and  when  they  went 
up  the  street  they  walked  side  by  side. 

Fortunately,  not  many  children  came  on  the  first 
day,  for  they  were  so  awkward  and  shy  that  the  most 
the  teacher  could  do  was  to  get  the  boys  to  hang  up 
their  caps  in  a  tentative  sort  of  fashion,  as  if  they 
might  need  them  at  any  moment  in  case  the  new 
school  did  not  meet  with  their  approval.  They  would 
have  stampeded  if  they  had  had  spirit  enough. 

One  or  two  did  disappear  during  the  first  morn 
ing,  only  to  be  brought  back  ignominiously  by  their 
mothers,  who  explained  that  they  had  been  well 
thrashed.  These  mothers  almost  lost  faith  in  the 
school  when  it  was  explained  that  there  was  to  be  no 
whipping.  The  girls  absolutely  refused  to  take  off 
their  handkerchief  head-dresses  with  their  riotous  pro 
fanity  of  aniline  colours.  They  did  consent  to  remove 
their  shawls  when  they  were  required  to  join  hands 
to  form  the  circle.  It  looked  at  first  as  if  the  exercises 
would  fail  to  interest  the  children. 

None  of  the  ordinary  stories,  nature-songs  or  games 
made  them  forget  their  shyness.  Apparently,  they 
did  not  know  how  to  play.  But  at  last,  by  happy  in 
spiration,  the  missionary  and  the  rector  joined  hands 
in  the  middle  of  the  ring  and  imitated  the  playing  of  a 
hurdy-gurdy,  calling  on  the  children  to  dance  to  the 
music  of  the  song.  Then  the  Maygar  blood  thawed 
out  and  the  little  exiles  from  the  Old  World  city  slums 
to  the  New  World  country  slums  forgot  themselves 
while  they  capered  about  the  floor. 


2i8  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  children  learned  to  love  other  games  too.  They 
learned  about  the  birds — not  the  sparrows  that  fight  in 
the  dusty  street,  but  real  birds  that  sing  and  that  some 
times  visit  even  Graham's  Patch.  They  learned  about 
the  fishes  that  live  in  the  mountain  streams,  where 
the  mine  water  does  not  come  to  kill  every  living 
thing  it  touches.  They  learned  still  more  about  the 
butterflies,  for  the  butterflies  hover  about  the  burdocks 
and  thistles  which  grow  in  the  town.  They  had  a  box 
in  which  to  keep  the  chrysalides  which  they  collected 
and  there  was  always  great  joy  when  a  butterfly  was 
"  borned." 

The  language  of  the  kindergarten  was  English,  al 
though  at  first  some  of  the  commands  had  to  be  re 
peated  in  their  native  tongue.  However,  not  all  the 
children  learned  their  English  in  the  kindergarten. 
There  was  little  Veronica  Klechi,  who  replied  proudly 
to  the  question  whether  she  could  speak  English, 
"  Ock,  yis !  Oi  kin  spake  Inglish  fer  yez  as  foine  as 
the  bist  o'  thim." 

The  attendance  kept  up  wonderfully  well,  even  in 
bad  weather  and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  there  were 
no  sidewalks  in  the  town.  Sidewalks  are  not  a  neces 
sity,  except  in  that  effete  stage  of  civilization  where 
juvenile  wet  feet  are  blamed  for  bronchitis.  Yet  the 
mothers  were  not  careless  according  to  their  light. 
Two  little  ones,  the  children  of  Hungarian  Katya,  who 
lived  at  a  considerable  distance  came  to  the  kinder 
garten  morning  after  morning  riding  on  their  mother's 
back,  or  rather  on  her  hips,  for  they  both  rode  at  one 
time.  Katya's  back  seemed  to  have  been  made  to  bear 


SCHOOL  IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH    219 

burdens,  but  she  panted  for  breath  sometimes  when 
the  snow  was  very  deep. 

"  Aren't  they  too  heavy?  "  the  teacher  asked. 

"  They  pretty  heavy,  but  me  get  along  goot." 

"Why  not  get  overshoes  and  leggings  for  them?" 

"  O !  him  cost  too  much  money !  " 

Always  the  same  cry,  the  money !  The  money  must 
be  saved  to  pay  the  installments  on  the  sewing  ma 
chines,  which  they  often  did  not  know  how  to  use,  or 
the  looking-glasses  or  the  albums  for  which  they 
had  no  need. 

It  was  bad  enough  to  have  to  buy  shoes  for  the 
school;  if  the  children  had  stayed  at  home  during  the 
winter  they  could  have  run  barefoot. 

There  was  one  feature  of  the  kindergarten  work 
which  proved  a  failure,  the  mothers'  meeting.  Mrs. 
Warne  provided  cake  and  the  teacher  brought  sugar 
and  tea.  The  teacher  carried  the  invitations  herself  to 
the  homes,  but  when  the  afternoon  came  only  two' 
half -grown  girls  and  lame  Yawcup,  Katya's  husband, 
appeared. 

It  was  manifestly  too  ludicrous  to  attempt  to  talk  to 
these  as  mothers,  so  they  ate  the  cake  without  enthu 
siasm  and  appointed  another  afternoon.  That  is  to 
say  Mrs.  Warne  and  the  teacher  were  without  enthu 
siasm;  Yawcup  was  so  stirred  up  that  he  disposed  of 
all  the  cake  that  the  teacher  brought  out. 

Again  the  teacher  went  to  the  homes,  but  this  time 
even  the  girls  failed  to  appear  and  Yawcup  was  told 
that  there  would  be  no  more  mothers'  meetings  for 
the  time  being. 


220  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  truth  dawned  upon  the  kindergartner  that  the 
afternoon  was  the  busy  part  of  the  mothers'  day.  Min 
ers'  wives  are  at  leisure  in  the  morning,  except  when 
their  husbands  work  on  the  night  shift.  It  is  in  the 
morning  that  the  gossips  shroud  their  heads  in  shawls 
and  flit  from  house  to  house,  leaving  their  own  cluttered 
breakfast  tables  and  untidy  kitchens  untouched.  Some 
time  during  the  early  afternoon,  or  even  before  noon, 
if  the  work  is  easy,  the  miner  comes  home.  If  there  is 
no  "  shifting  shanty,"  his  kitchen  must  be  the  bath 
room  in  which  he  strips  off  his  grimy  outer  garments. 
No  wonder  the  floors  are  blackened :  dripping  oil  and 
sooty  smoke,  to  say  nothing  of  the  coal  dust  itself, 
have  stiffened  his  clothing  and  hair  and  blackened  his 
skin. 

It  is  the  proper  form  for  the  miner's  wife  to  be 
on  hand  to  prepare  her  husband's  bath.  She  must 
bring  his  best  clothes;  see  that  the  water  in  the  wash 
tub  is  heated  to  the  right  temperature;  carry  away  his 
dirty  clothes  when  he  has  washed;  have  his  dinner 
hot  when  he  is  ready  or  his  pipe  if  he  does  not  choose 
to  eat.  Then  she  goes  to  work  to  scrub  the  floor  and 
clear  up  the  house.  It  is  little  wonder  that  her  hus 
band,  having  dressed  himself  in  his  best  clothes  goes 
off  to  the  saloon  to  escape  from  the  house  cleaning 
process. 

It  was  not  surprising  then  that  the  mothers  did 
not  attend  the  meetings  for  them  at  the  kinder 
garten,  or  that  they  did  not  alwrays  succeed  in  getting 
the  children  off  in  the  morning  with  clean  hands  and 
faces.  But  to  their  credit  let  it  be  said  that  they  gen- 


SCHOOL  IN  GRAHAM'S  PATCH   221 

erally  did  come  clean.  Of  course  the  teacher  still 
needed  the  basin  and  brush  for  emergency  cases,  but 
the  influence  of  the  school  was  shown  in  the  fact  that 
each  day  they  were  less  needed.  Fond  as  the  children 
were  of  the  teacher,  it  was  not  a  coveted  honour  to  be 
scrubbed  by  her  hands.  But  while  hands  and  faces 
were  nearly  always  scrupulously  clean,  the  clothes 
were  not  always  what  could  be  desired.  The  hard- 
worked  mothers,  who  had  to  carry  their  wash-water, 
did  not  take  kindly  to  extra  laundry  work. 

In  the  quantity  of  clothing  worn  there  also  began 
to  be  some  improvement.  In  time  it  might  come  to 
be  the  fashion  for  the  mothers  to  buy  flannels  for 
the  children  instead  of  earrings,  or  even  milk  instead 
of  beer.  The  homes,  too,  showed  the  effect  of  the 
kindergarten.  They  were  not  quite  so  squalid  as  at 
first,  and  there  was  some  effort  made  to  induce  the 
grass  and  even  flowers  to  grow  in  the  unkempt  side 
yards.  English  was  no  longer  an  unknown  tongue. 
A  few  of  the  older  scholars,  who  had  graduated  from 
the  kindergarten  went  to  the  new  public  school  which 
was  built  within  reach  of  Graham's  Patch.  They 
learned  that  there  was  something  in  this  American 
world  besides  the  coal  breaker  for  the  boys  and  a  life 
of  hopeless  drudgery  for  the  girls.  They  had  become 
a  part  of  the  great  Republic — a  very  small  part,  but 
they  were  no  longer  aliens. 

Some  two  years  after  the  first  interview,  the  Old 
Mogul  sent  for  the  rector  and  said :  "  I  was  in  your 
kindergarten  down  at  Number  Four  the  other  day, 
and  saw  thirty-five  little  youngsters  there  that  could 


222  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

hardly  have  been  told  from  white  children.  If  you 
can  get  another  teacher  like  that  one  you  have,  I  wish 
you'd  send  for  her.  The  Company  wants  to  open  a 
school.  Since  you  people  at  the  mission  have  gone 
into  politics  we've  saved  enough  on  taxes  to  afford 
a  few  luxuries.  We'll  charge  up  the  running  ex 
penses  to  the  mine,  and  open  another  kindergarten  at 
Number  Five.  Can  you  furnish  us  with  the  teacher  ?  " 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT 


The  threads  our  hands  in  blindness  spin 
No  self-determined  plan  weaves  in; 
The  shuttle  of  the  unseen  powers 
Works  out  a  pattern  not  as  ours." 

— WHITTIER. 


XV 

AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT 

* '  T  DECLARE  there's    that    Hungarian   beggar 

coming  again !    It's  only  a  week  since  he  was 

here  before,  and  I  gave  him  five  cents  to  get 

rid  of  him.    Well,  he'll  get  nothing  here  to-day,"  said 

Mrs.  Hatton,  decidedly. 

Going  to  the  window  she  shook  her  head  vigorously, 
exclaiming  in  a  constantly  rising  tone,  "No  money, 
no  money,  no  money !  There,  I  hope  I'm  rid  of  him !  " 
she  said,  turning  to  her  visitor  with  some  vehemence 
still  noticeable  in  her  voice. 

The  man  carefully  closed  the  gate,  and  was  turning 
to  leave  when  Mrs.  Warne,  who  was  visiting  her 
friend,  caught  sight  of  him. 

"  Why,  it's  Andro  Klechi,"  she  said,  rising.  "  You 
won't  mind  if  I  call  after  him?  I  want  him  to  do  a 
little  work  for  me." 

"  O  Andro,"  she  called,  "  how  you  making  out, 
now?  " 

Mrs.  Hatton  settled  back  with  rather  an  indulgent 
smile.  She  was  getting  used  to  Mrs.  Warne's  vaga 
ries.  "  Another  of  Helen's  friends,"  she  thought. 
"  I  wonder  if  she  will  think  it  necessary  to  introduce 
him  ?  The  idea  of  being  chummy  with  that  ugly  Hun 
garian  !  " 

225 


226  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  shrinking  figure  turned,  a  faint  smile  coming 
to  his  thin  lips  as  he  recognised  an  old  friend.  His 
answer  was  a  mixture  of  English  and  Magyar,  in 
which  Magyar  largely  predominated,  but  Mrs.  Warne 
presently  made  out  that  he  was  "  Middlin'." 

"When  can  come  do  a  little  work  in  my  garden? 
Can  come  to-morrow,  set  out  cabbage?  All  right. 
Come  early — come  right  quick,"  she  corrected,  fear 
ing  he  might  not  understand  he  was  invited  to  break 
fast  :  "  Come  before  breakfast." 

"  Your  friend  is  a  trifle  dirty,  isn't  he?  You  might 
suggest  a  bath.  Helen,  I  don't  see  how  you  could  talk 
so  to  him?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Warne,  purposely  misunderstand 
ing  the  last  remark,  "  It's  easy  enough  to  talk  to 
Andro  when  once  you  know  him.  I've  often  thought 
I  would  learn  his  language,  so  I  could  talk  better  to 
him;  I  pity  the  poor  fellow  so." 

"  I  suppose  this  is  another  of  the  cases  you're  con 
stantly  running  across,  where  you  find  a  most  remark 
able  character,  having  the  choicest  traits,  like  that 
dreadful  speak-easy  keeper,  Casey,  although  to  my 
eyes  and  those  of  all  the  unregenerate,  they  are  the 
commonest,  stupidest,  dirtiest  of  mortals." 

"  Kate,  you  must  not  put  yourself  in  the  wrong, 
even  in  your  own  eyes.  You  know  you  have  become 
interested  in  these  poor  people  or  you  would  not  want 
to  work  in  the  settlement  house." 

"  Oh,  that's  different.  In  regard  to  that  matter,  I 
simply  say,  Go  to  now;  on  Tuesdays  and  Thursdays 
I'll  go  to  Carbonville  to  the  settlement  house  and  help 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT       227 

elevate  the  mob.  But  that's  vastly  different  from  be 
ing  interested  in  them  all  the  time  as  you  and  the 
rector  are.  When  I'm  invited  by  you  to  meet  a  few 
of  your  friends,  I  never  know  whether  I'll  find  some  of 
the  most  exclusive  set  from  Carbonville  or  some  of 
your  miners.  I  never  know  whether  to  dress  up  or  to 
prepare  disinfectants.  Now  if  this  unwashed  Hun 
garian  friend  of  yours  had  come  to  the  settlement 
house,  on  my  day  there,  I  should  have  been  tremen 
dously  interested  in  him  and  sympathetic.  But  to-day 
when  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  he  only  annoyed  me. 
This  is  Wednesday  and  my  day  for  receiving  and  not 
my  day  for  philanthropy.  All  I  can  think  of  now  is, 
Why  didn't  he  stay  in  his  own  country?  " 

"  Because  he  got  sick  and  had  to  go  to  the  hospital, 
or  poorhouse,  or  something.  Then  the  government 
paid  his  passage  to  this  country  to  get  rid  of 
him." 

"  Well,  why  don't  He  go  to  work  now,  instead  of 
begging?" 

"  Because  he's  sick.  He  grew  better  when  he  first 
came  to  this  country  and  got  work  in  the  mines.  But 
it  was  a  job  where  he  was  wet  all  the  time,  and  in  two 
weeks  he  had  rheumatic  fever.  Now  he  has  a  case  of 
chronic  rheumatism.  Dr.  Creigan  wrote  his  story 
for  him  in  the  book  he  carries,  because  he  is  the  direc 
tor  of  the  poor  for  the  county  as  well  as  physician  in 
the  hospital  where  Andro  was  sick.  If  the  man  doesn't 
get  back  to  his  own  country  pretty  soon  he  will  be 
come  a  charge  on  the  county.  So  they  told  him  if  he 
could  raise  money  enough  to  pay  half  his  passage,  the 


228  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

county  would  give  him  the  other  half — to  get  him 
off  their  hands." 

"  Where  does  he  live?  " 

"  Oh,  little  Hungarian  Katya  lets  him  have  his 
bunk  in  her  house  over  in  the  Patch.  He  sleeps  down 
stairs  with  one  of  the  children." 

It  is  the  poor  who  are  truly  charitable;  people  who 
are  fairly  prosperous  find  self-denial  inconvenient. 

"Has  he  no  friends?" 

"  None  that  he  knows  where  to  find.  He  left  a  wife 
and  five  children  when  he  came  to  this  country,  seven 
years  ago,  but  he  has  lost  all  trace  of  them.  He  has 
not  heard  from  them  even  once.  They  were  miserably 
poor.  After  he  came  here  he  was  taken  sick.  For  a 
year  his  head  was  bad,  he  says.  The  letters  they 
wrote  must  have  been  lost.  The  family  in  the  old 
country  must  have  moved  to  some  other  place.  He 
spends  his  time  in  wandering  from  one  post-office  to 
another.  Wherever  he  goes  he  is  always  seeking  at 
the  post-office  for  letters  from  his  kin.  He  showed 
me  their  pictures  once — his  wife  and  himself  and  their 
oldest  baby.  The  oddest-looking  old  thing  you  ever 
saw.  They  never  had  any  pictures  taken  of  the  others 
— they  were  too  poor  afterward." 

As  Mrs.  Warne  went  toward  the  rectory,  Mrs. 
Hatton's  carriage  came  to  the  door.  She  leaned  back 
on  the  cushions  a  trifle  wearily,  giving  the  order  for 
the  boulevard  by  Sky  Summit  and  home.  On  the 
way  home,  at  the  turn  of  the  boulevard  which  over 
looks  Coalton,  she  stopped  the  carriage  and  walked  to 
the  ledge  of  rock  to  look  at  the  scene  spread  at  her 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT        229 

feet.  Notwithstanding  all  the  sorrowful  days  which 
she  had  spent  in  this  valley,  she  loved  every  foot  of  it. 
Even  the  great,  black  culm  piles  did  not  seem  ugly  at 
this  distance.  The  queer-shaped  breakers,  dotted  all 
through  the  valley  and  along  the  mountain  sides,  were 
unique,  if  not  altogether  artistic. 

But  that  which  delighted  her  most  was  the  intense 
activity  of  the  scene.  She  was  so  far  above  it  that 
no  sound  came  to  her.  Yet  everywhere  there  was 
motion.  Railroad  trains  disappeared  and  reappeared 
behind  the  spurs  of  the  mountain.  Cars  drawn  by 
mules  ran  out  to  the  point  of  a  culm  dump  and  dis 
charged  the  black  waste  without  jar  or  noise.  Up 
the  long  slanting  planes  great  wire  cables  wrenched 
the  loaded  cars  or  dropped  the  emptied  ones  so  quickly 
that  they  looked  like  shuttles  in  some  huge  loom.  Col 
umns  of  steam  rose  on  every  side  like  gigantic  white 
ostrich  plumes  blown  by  a  violent  wind.  Since  the 
coal  which  generated  all  this  steam  was  anthracite,  no 
blot  of  smoke  obscured  the  valley;  every  detail  of  the 
landscape  was  etched  distinctly  in  black  and  white. 
She  was  too  far  above  it  all  for  the  grime  and  squalor 
and  dust  to  be  apparent. 

Her  carriage  was  waiting  at  the  bend  above,  and 
as  she  turned  to  enter  it,  she  was  suddenly  attracted  by 
a  movement  at  the  foot  of  the  culm  pile  at  Number 
Five  Breaker.  Almost  by  intuition  she  understood 
the  scene.  She  saw  a  forlorn  childish  figure  stag 
gering  under  a  bag  of  coal,  gathered  from  the  pile 
of  waste;  saw  her  slip  and  fall,  spilling  the  load;  saw 
the  childish  abandonment  of  grief,  and  then  saw  a 


230  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

man's  swift  approach;  saw  him  stop  and  help  the  child, 
gather  up  the  coal,  swing  the  heavy  sack  to  his  own 
shoulder  and  walk  quickly  in  the  direction  of  the 
Italian  shanties  on  Whiskey  Hill.  There  was  a  lump 
in  Mrs.  Hatton's  throat  as  she  recognised  that  the 
man's  figure  was  that  of  Burt  Hatton,  the  husband 
from  whom  she  had  been  separated. 

As  her  carriage  turned  the  corner  north  of  the  culm 
dump  of  the  Number  Five  Breaker,  the  horses  shied  at 
a  shambling  figure.  Mrs.  Hatton  ordered  the  car 
riage  stopped,  but  Andro  did  not  recognise  in  the 
friendly  face  which  smiled  at  him  the  woman  who  had 
repulsed  him  earlier  in  the  afternoon.  To  this  day, 
he  wonders  why  the  beautiful  lady  stopped  her  car 
riage  to  give  him  the  generous  coin? 

Andro  did  not  set  out  the  cabbages  on  the  next  day 
as  Mrs.  Warne  had  planned.  He  would  have  obeyed 
her,  of  course,  if  she  had  positively  commanded  him 
to  set  them  out;  but  he  besought  her  with  earnest 
ness  not  to  waste  good  cabbage  plants  when  the  sun 
was  "  hot,  so  hot."  Though  Andro's  word  for  wilt 
failed  him  his  sign  language  did  not.  So  he  quickly 
made  Mrs.  Warne  understand  that  if  the  cabbages 
were  planted  that  day  they  would  close  their  eyes  and 
lay  their  heads  upon  the  earth  from  which  they  could 
never  be  raised;  while  if  she  trusted  to  him  to  choose 
a  suitable  day  for  planting,  the  cabbages  would  spring 
into  life  and  greatness  before  her  very  eyes. 

On  the  next  Sunday  morning,  just  as  Mrs.  Warne 
was  leaving  the  rector's  study  door,  after  performing 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT       231 

her  self-imposed  task  of  assisting  him  to  put  on 
his  gown  for  the  service,  she  heard  Mrs.  Hatton's 
carriage  drive  up.  She  bent  over  her  husband's  chair 
and  kissed  him  softly  on  the  temple  as  she  said,  "  God 
bless  the  message,  Henry !  " 

Her  eyes  were  still  shining  and  her  mouth  had 
upon  it  a  tender  smile  when  she  saw  Mrs.  Hatton  run 
up  the  steps  of  the  rectory  porch,  trying  to  control 
her  laughter. 

"  Helen,  are  you  sure  your  friend  Andro  will  get 
those  cabbage  plants  set  out  where  you  want  them  ?  " 

"Kate!  Andro  isn't  setting  out  those  plants  this 
morning!  " 

"  Oh,  but  he  is.  He  told  me  it  was  going  to  rain 
and  they  would  do  well." 

Mrs.  Warne  hurried  to  the  garden.  There  was 
Andro  planting  a  row  of  cabbages  as  calmly  and  as 
openly  in  the  rectory  garden  as  he  might  have  done  in 
the  front  yard  of  the  most  unregenerate  shanty  in 
Reagan's  Patch. 

Mrs.  Warne's  swift  glance  took  in  the  questioning- 
eyes  of  more  than  one  passer-by.  She  also  saw  with 
satisfaction  that  the  study  shades  were  down.  The 
rector's  prayer  as  he  crossed  to  the  church  would  not 
be  interrupted  by  the  unholy  work  in  the  garden.  Then 
she  applied  herself  to  Andro. 

"  Stop!  Stop !    Andro ;  it  is  Sunday !  " 

Andro  looked  up  in  mild  surprise.  "  Will  rain," 
he  said,  pointing  to  the  clouds. 

"  Yes,  I  have  no  doubt  it  will  rain.    But  I  will  not 


232  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

have  you  set  the  plants  out  to-day.  It's  Sunday — go 
church — rest,"  said  Mrs.  Warne  growing  more  ex 
cited  every  moment. 

"To-day,  good  day;  will  rain,"  replied  Andro  still 
working  away. 

"Man,  will  you  stop!  You  mustn't  set  them  out 
to-day!  It's  Sunday.  Checki!  I  say.  I'll  call  the 
police.  I'll  tell  your  priest.  I'll  tell  Father  Stephen, 
if  you  don't  checki  right  quick !  "  cried  Mrs.  Warne, 
rinding  the  English  language  totally  inadequate  for 
the  situation. 

"  Prest  no  good.  Will  rain,"  said  Andro,  digging 
another  hole  in  the  soft  earth  with  the  middle  finger 
of  his  right  hand. 

"  Get  out  the  Prayer  Book  and  try  that  on  him," 
laughed  Mrs.  Hatton  coming  up.  "  I  wonder  what 
would  be  the  best  part  to  read  to  an  obdurate  gardener 
bent  upon  planting  cabbage  on  the  Sabbath  day? 
You  might  as  well  give  it  up.  As  you  stand  out  here 
trying  to  make  him  stop,  it  looks  for  all  the  world  as 
though  you  were  bossing  the  job — and  I  must  say  it 
looks  as  though  you  were  a  pretty  hard  boss  to  please, 
when  you  are  going  on  at  this  rate." 

Mrs.  Warne  tried  to  look  reproachfully  at  her 
friend.  She  had  been  almost  ready  to  cry  with  vexa 
tion  when  Mrs.  Hatton  came  up,  but  her  laugh  had 
saved  her. 

"  He  seems  to  think  it's  a  work  of  necessity.  Don't 
you  see,  Helen,  it's  a  matter  of  conscience  with  him. 
There  is  no  use  to  try  to  stop  him.  Come  on,  or  we 
shall  be  late  to  church." 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT        233 

When  Mrs.  Warne  came  home  from  the  church 
service  at  noon,  she  looked  with  a  sort  of  shamefaced 
satisfaction  at  the  long  rows  of  cabbage  plants  stand 
ing  up  stiff  and  straight  in  the  showers  of  rain.  She 
found  Andro  in  the  kitchen,  drying  his  coat  by  the 
fire,  and  smoking  his  iron  pipe  with  great  con 
tent. 

She  could  not  help  reproving  him  for  his  unholy 
breach  of  the  Sabbath  day,  which  had  exposed  her  to 
the  criticisms  of  her  neighbours.  She  further  gave 
him  sundry  warnings  about  keeping  the  Sabbath  in 
the  future. 

But  to  all  this  Andro  placidly  replied,  "  Me  know 
would  rain.  Him  plants  grow  big,  so,"  and  Andro 
made  a  bony  circle  with  his  thin  arms  to  show  how  big 
he  meant. 

It  was  soon  after  this  that  Andro  happened  one  af 
ternoon  to  call  at  the  post-office  in  Mudtown  in  his 
vain  search  for  the  letter  from  home  which  never 
came.  In  the  office  at  Mudtown,  which  bears  a  more 
euphonious  name  in  the  official  list  of  post-offices,  all 
the  letters  bearing  foreign  names  are  placed  in  a  glass 
frame  so  that  the  patrons  of  the  office  may  be  able  to 
see  for  themselves  whether  or  not  they  have  received 
any  mail.  From  this  glass  case  Andro  was  turning 
away  with  a  heavy  sigh,  when  he  found  himself  con 
fronted  by  the  sexton  of  the  Wayside  Cemetery,  a 
rugged,  middle-aged  native  American. 

The  sexton  talked  in  a  high  voice,  and  kept  repeat 
ing  his  questions  until  Andro  answered,  while  Andro 
in  his  turn  asked  many  things  in  such  a  timid,  shrink- 


234  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

ing  tone  that  the  American  hardly  had  the  patience 
to  answer  him  at  all. 

They  succeeded,  after  much  effort,  in  making  each 
other  understand  certain  facts.  The  sexton  learned 
that  Andro  had  had  a  son,  named  Jan  Klechi,  that 
this  son  had  gone  into  the  Austrian  army,  and  that  he 
was  about  as  tall  as  Andro  himself. 

Andro,  on  his  part,  was  finally  made  to  understand 
that  the  county  of  Anthracite  had  recently  paid  for  the 
burial  of  a  young  man  named  John  Klechi,  who  had 
died  from  injuries  received  in  the  mines;  that  he  had 
died  in  the  poorhouse;  that  he  was  buried  in  grave 
number  643  at  Wayside  Cemetery;  that  the  sexton 
did  not  know  where  he  came  from  nor  anything  about 
his  friends. 

Poor  Andro.  He  walked  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way 
to  where  the  street  crossed  the  railroad,  and  then 
sat  down  on  a  bank  of  coal  dirt  with  his  back  against 
a  telegraph-pole. 

So  Jan  had  come  to  this  country,  after  all,  to  seek 
him !  His  son,  his  dear  first-born !  The  emperor 
had  taken  him  for  the  army.  And  now  he  was  dead. 
He  had  been  so  near,  and  yet  had  died  without  seeing 
his  fathei.  And  the  rest,  where  were  they?  Were 
they  dead,  too?  Ah!  the  Holy  Mother  pity  and  rest 
his  soul! 

The  little  group  of  loungers  on  the  post-office  steps 
had  silently  watched  the  stooping  figure  of  Andro 
until  he  disappeared  over  the  embankment  of  the  rail 
road.  Then  Prydup,  the  shoemaker,  spoke: 

"  Kind  o'  hard  on  the  old  man,  ain't  it  ?    You  know 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT       235 

he's  been  hunting  for  his  folks  for  years.  Them  Huns 
are  a  tough  lot  generally,  but  I  reckon  they've  got 
feelings  same  as  anybody  else." 

"  This  case  is  one  of  Bruce  Hardin's  victims,"  said 
the  sexton. 

"  What,  Bruce  Hardin  that's  arrested  for  stealing 
from  the  Hatton  Company?  How's  he  Hardin's 
victim?  " 

"  Why,  you  see  Hardin  cheated  the  Company  with 
one  hand,  and  the  men  with  the  other.  He  was  a 
sharp  fellow,  he  was." 

"  Oh  yes,  he's  sharp  enough;  but  he'll  get  his  dues 
this  time.  The  Company  ain't  like  to  let  up  on  him." 

"  No,  he  won't  get  his  dues,  either.  He  was  the 
cause  of  the  death  of  this  young  Hun.  Hardin  had 
been  mixing  culm  dirt  with  the  powder  he  sold  to  the 
Huns,  and  made  it  so  rotten  that  it  wouldn't  go  off 
more  than  half  the  time.  This  young  fellow  got  tired 
of  waiting  for  the  blast  to  go  off.  So  he  went  back, 
thinking  that  the  blast  wouldn't  shoot.  About  the 
time  he  got  back  it  caught  fire,  and  he  was  so  badly 
hurt  that  he  died  from  the  effects." 

"Well,  it's  too  bad,"  Prydup  declared.  "The 
Hungarians  are  cheated  right  and  left.  I  know 
they're  a  tough  set,  and  ain't  citizens;  and  if  they 
are,  they  don't  know  whether  they're  voting  for  the 
Duke  of  Austria  or  the  Sheriff  of  Anthracite;  but  I 
declare  it  isn't  fair.  Why,  they  have  to  pay  two  prices 
for  everything,  and  get  adulterated  goods  into  the 
bargain.  It's  a  wonder  the  government  don't  charge 
them  extra  for  postage-stamps.  I  say " 


236  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  See  here,  Tom  Prydup,"  broke  in  the  postmaster, 
who  felt  that  by  Tom's  outburst  of  eloquent  indigna 
tion  his  honour  as  a  retail  merchant  was  assailed,  as 
well  as  the  reputation  of  the  postal  department  of  the 
United  States,  as  represented  in  his  person,  "  I  just 
want  to  ask  you  one  question.  It's  all  well  enough 
to  talk  about  live  and  let  live,  but  do  you  practise 
what  you  preach?  Say,  now  how  much  cheaper  do 
you  mend  shoes  for  these  down-trodden  Hungarians, 
as  you  call  them,  than  you  do  for  other  people?  " 

"  Why,  I  can't  afford  to  mend  'em  any  cheaper  for 
them  'n  I  do  for  others." 

"  Well,  do  you  mend  'em  as  cheap?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,"  said  the  shoemaker,  willing  to 
justify  himself,  "  they  are  such  a  splay-footed  tribe 
that  I  have  to  get  new  lasts  mostly,  and  of  course  I 
have  to  charge  'em  a  little  more  until  I  make  it  up." 

"Oh,  yes;  and  when  they've  bought  a  new  lot  of 
splay-footed  lasts,  I  suppose  you'll  mend  their  shoes 
for  half  price."  And  so  the  conversation  ended. 

Andro  sat  for  a  long  time  on  the  embankment.  Sud 
denly  he  got  up.  He  would  walk  to  the  Wayside 
Cemetery  that  afternoon. 

It  was  not  more  than  three  miles  away,  but  Andro 
was  so  tormented  with  rheumatism  that  it  was  nearly 
dark  before  he  reached  the  place. 

At  last  he  found  the  grave,  with  the  number  painted 
on  a  shingle  with  thin  black  paint  which  had  dripped 
down  after  the  shingle  had  been  set  in  the  ground. 

The  boys  who  live  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Way 
side  Cemetery  are  not  more  hard-hearted  than  the 


AN   ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT        237 

average  boy;  but  the  summer  vacation  had  just  be 
gun,  and  they  were  not  yet  used  to  their  new-found 
liberty. 

On  this  particular  evening  they  had  been  to  the 
river  for  a  swim,  and  were  returning  in  the  moonlight 
when  they  discovered  Andro  on  his  knees  beside  the 
newly  found  grave  of  his  son. 

At  first  the  boys  were  rather  startled  at  the  figure 
in  the  moonlight,  and  a  few  armed  themselves  with 
stones.  Then  they  became  curious,  and  went  close 
enough  to  hear  the  prayers  which  the  poor  fellow  was 
mumbling  in  his  own  tongue. 

"  Why,  it's  old  Andro !  "  said  the  storekeeper's  son. 

"Ah  there,  Andro!" 

"  Hello,  Andro!    What  you  'bout?  " 

"  Hello,  old  man!    How  you  comin'  up?  " 

Andro  paid  not  the  slightest  heed  to  these  inter 
ruptions;  indeed,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  heard  them. 
He  was  back  in  his  own  country  now,  in  his  imagina 
tion;  his  prayer  for  the  soul  of  his  son  had  carried 
him  out  of  all  remembrance  of  time  and  place. 

Presently  one  of  the  boys  in  the  back  of  the  group 
flung  a  stone  with  a  clatter  against  the  fence.  Then 
another  stone  flew  over  Andre's  head. 

"  Oh  don't !     Don't  hit  the  poor  old  man !  " 

It  was  not  intentional,  but  one  of  the  stones  that 
had  been  thrown  struck  the  kneeling  man  on  the  foot. 
He  stopped  praying  and  got  up.  The  boys  scattered 
and  ran,  but  the  old  man  had  no  desire  to  chase  them. 
He  went  over  and  sat  on  the  fence,  sore-hearted  and 
weary. 


2j8  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

A  few  days  later  Andro  brought  a  headboard  in 
the  shape  of  a  cross,  with  strips  nailed  from  the  top 
to  the  ends  of  the  transverse  limb,  making  a  sort  of 
roof  over  the  cross.  This  was  coloured  sky-blue,  and 
upon  it  some  unskillful  person  had  painted : 


643 

HIer  RuHet 
JaN  kLecHI 

1899 


Some  weeks  after  Andro  had  set  up  the  cross  over 
the  grave  he  called  to  see  Mrs.  Warne  again.  From 
him  she  learned  that  he  would  have  to  sacrifice  his 
little  store  of  savings  to  pay  for  the  mass  to  be  per 
formed  by  the  priest  in  the  little  Greek  Catholic 
Church  at  Hunter's  Valley  for  the  repose  of  his  son's 
soul. 

The  price  would  be  twenty  dollars — an  outrageous 
sum  to  ask  from  this  poor,  starved  creature,  she  said 
to  herself.  Andro  seemed  also  to  think  it  was  very 
expensive,  for  he  kept  saying  pathetically,  "  Him  cost 
so  big,  so  big!  " 

Of  course  this  would  postpone  for  months  his  trip 
back  to  his  native  land. 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT       239 

Mrs.  Warne  had  a  severe  struggle  with  her  con 
science  before  she  could  bring  herself  to  believe  that 
it  would  be  right  for  her  to  give  Andro  a  present  when 
he  was  about  to  spend  so  much  on  what  she  called, 
for  want  of  a  better  term,  "  popish  superstition !  " 

However,  when  he  tried  to  tell  her  how  proud  he 
had  been  of  this  son  when  a  baby,  her  conscience 
yielded  the  point,  and  she  went  to  get  him  the 
money. 

Andro  looked  in  speechless  silence  for  a  moment  at 
the  piece  of  gold  which  she  placed  in  his  hand,  and 
then  began  to  cover  her  hand  with  kisses  in  the  excess 
of  his  gratitude. 

It  was  an  unusual  scene.  Andro's  tears  were  wet 
ting  her  hand  as  he  kissed  it,  and  Mrs.  Warne  herself 
was  so  affected  by  his  gratitude  that  she  only  managed 
to  recover  herself  by  asking  him,  rather  sharply, 
whether  he  had  had  any  dinner  that  day. 

But  it  was  not  to  get  his  dinner  nor  to  ask  for 
financial  assistance  that  Andro  had  called  on  Mrs. 
Warne  that  summer  day.  He  had  come  to  ask  that 
she  would  supply  him  with  certain  slips  and  cuttings 
from  her  flowers,  that  he  might  plant  them  upon  the 
grave  of  his  son.  Of  course  she  gave  him  his  choice, 
not  of  cuttings  only,  but  of  whatever  potted  plants 
she  had  that  were  suitable  for  his  purpose. 

Mrs.  Hatton  came  with  her  carriage  and  took  her 
and  the  flowers  to  the  Wayside  Cemetery  that  very 
afternoon. 

When  they  reached  Wayside  they  found  Andro 
armed  with  a  trowel  waiting  by  the  gate. 


240  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  two  women  waited  in  silence  while  Andro 
planted  the  flowers. 

As  they  came  back  to  the  street  a  stout  Hungarian 
woman,  wearing  a  gay  handkerchief  instead  of  a  bon 
net,  accompanied  by  two  half-grown,  bullet-headed 
boys,  passed  on  the  other  side.  Mrs.  Warne  had 
turned  to  say  good-bye  to  Andro,  when  she  saw  his 
eyes  widen  with  surprise  and  longing.  The  muscles 
of  his  face  were  twitching,  and  his  lips  were  moving 
as  if  he  were  praying. 

He  went  slowly  through  the  dust  across  the  street, 
holding  out  his  hands  as  if  to  steady  himself.  There 
was  a  quick  exchange  of  words  in  a  barbarous  tongue, 
and  then  the  stout  woman  seized  Andro  about  the 
waist,  and  began  rocking  him  from  side  to  side  as 
though  he  had  been  a  baby,  while  the  boys  stared  at 
him  with  their  little  black  eyes  as  though  he  had  been 
an  apparition  from  the  graveyard. 

"  O  Kate !  It  must  be  that  Andro  has  found  his 
people !  "  cried  Mrs.  Warne.  "  Come,  let's  go  over." 

Andro  came  toward  them  as  they  crossed  the  street. 
The  old,  hopeless,  hunted  look  was  lost  from  his  face. 

"  My  familie !  My  familie !  "  he  kept  saying  over 
and  over  again,  pointing  from  his  wife  to  his  boys. 

While  Mrs.  Warne  and  Mrs.  Hatton  were  gravely 
shaking  hands  all  round,  Andro  was  pointing  back 
toward  the  pauper  grave  with  the  blue  cross.  "  Him 
not  my  Jan !  My  Jan  in  Carbonville !  They  all  come 
back.  Him  some  anoder  fellow." 

Was  it  any  wonder  the  happy  fellow  could  not  keep 
still?  His  rheumatic  legs  seemed  to  lose  their  stiff- 


AN  ASSISTED  IMMIGRANT       241 

ness  and  his  back  to  straighten  as  they  showered  upon 
him  fresh  congratulations.  To  be  sure,  he  did  not 
understand  one  word  in  ten  they  were  saying  to  him, 
and  Mrs.  Andro  and  the  boys  not  one  in  a  hundred, 
but  they  all  rejoiced  together  most  heartily. 

As  they  were  on  their  way  home,  Mrs.  Hatton  said, 
"  You  might  have  saved  your  flowers,  Helen." 

What  Mrs.  Warne  said  was :  "  Kate,  don't  for  the 
world  tell  anybody  about  that  mass!  I'll  tell  Henry 
myself,  although  with  his  low  church  principles  he'll 
almost  want  to  excommunicate  me.  Poor  old  Andro 
will  seem  to  him  almost  as  bad  as  the  Scarlet  Woman 
herself." 


CASEY'S   SPEAK-EASY 


"  What  this  country  really  needs  is  some  kind  of 
reform  movement  that  will  not  interfere  with  any 
body's  plans." — ANON. 


XVI 

CASEY'S  SPEAK-EASY 

SOME  of  the  "  patches,"  as  the  villages  in  the  coal 
regions  are  called,  are  dry  and  some  are  other 
wise.  The  patches  of  company  houses  are  gen 
erally  without  saloon  privileges,  while  the  other  vil 
lages  are  well  supplied.  The  village  in  which  the  kin 
dergarten  was  established  was  a  dry  patch,  but  Casey 
helped  to  mitigate  this  condition  of  affairs. 

Casey  kept  a  saloon  and  an  illicit  one  at  that. 
Everybody  said  so,  but  Casey  himself.  He  denied  it 
point  blank  and  gave  various  reasons  why  he  did  not, 
the  chief  reason  being  that  he  didn't.  He  also  gave 
various  explanations  of  the  fact  that  the  bottlers' 
wagon  and  the  beer  truck  and  the  "  snake  wagon  " 
with  its  load  of  whiskey  jugs  all  stopped  at  his  door 
and  deposited  generous  loads  just  before  each  pay  day. 

The  old  woman,  he  was  more  than  sorry  to  say, 
"  liked  a  wee  drap  iv  the  crayture."  Besides  it  was 
handy  to  have  a  little  good  liquor  in  the  house.  If 
one  was  taking  cold  it  was  an  excellent  thing  to  apply 
— on  the  outside.  Then  there  were  his  friends.  There 
were  few  men  with  so  many  good  friends  as  Casey, 
and  a  mean  man  he  would  be  not  to  give  a  good  friend 
a  bit  of  a  glass  when  he  stopped  in  to  see  you,  espe 
cially  if  he  was  on  his  way  home  from  the  mines  wet 

245 


246  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

and  hungry  like.  The  location  of  Casey's  place  was 
such  that  it  was  especially  convenient  for  a  great  many 
of  Casey's  friends  to  drop  in  on  their  way  home  from 
work. 

Casey's  home  was  an  old  box-car  which  had  been 
pitched  off  its  trucks  over  an  embankment  near  the 
Hatton  Coal  Company's  washery.  It  had  had  its 
back  broken  by  the  fall,  so  that  the  railroad  company 
did  not  think  it  worth  raising.  So  there  it  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  the  bank  of  culm,  with  burdocks  growing 
all  about  it,  till  Casey  took  possession  of  it.  Soon 
after  Casey  moved  in  there  was  a  deep,  well-beaten 
path  worn  across  the  dump  to  Casey's  old  car. 

Casey  had  cut  a  door  and  window  in  the  car  and 
had  fastened  to  it  a  cook  shanty,  till  it  was  with 
reasonable  pride  that  he  referred  to  "  my  place."  Pos 
sibly  it  was  this  pride  of  ownership  that  made  Casey 
resent  so  strenuously  the  assertion  that  he  kept  a  sa 
loon,  although  it  is  barely  possible  that  the  question 
of  paying  the  license  fee  had  something  to  do  with  it. 

The  mere  matter  of  keeping  a  saloon  would  not 
have  produced  any  sensation  in  the  community.  In 
Higgins's  Patch,  just  around  the  culm  dump,  almost 
every  other  house  flung  out  a  great  sign  proclaiming 
to  passers-by  that  within  there  was  beer,  as  well  as 
other  refreshment. 

But  Casey's  neighbours,  or  at  least  the  women  kind, 
who  would  have  accepted  a  licensed  saloon  as  a  matter 
of  course,  rather  resented  the  fact  that  he  kept  a  speak 
easy,  "  an'  him  an  able-bodied  man  wid  all  his  ar-rums 
and  legs  an'  a  good  job  in  the  Hatton  mine  besides." 


CASEY'S  SPEAK-EASY  247 

To  be  sure  he  was  discharged  from  the  mine  by  Mor 
ris  the  inside  foreman  for  drunkenness  soon  after  he 
began  to  keep  a  saloon.  Now  if  he  had  only  been  a 
widow  no  one  would  have  objected.  But  it  was  plain 
to  be  seen  that  he  was  no  widow.  Or  if  he  had  been 
a  cripple,  or  if  he  had  had  miners'  asthma,  it  would 
have  been  a  pre-eminently  proper  proceeding.  In  such 
a  case  he  would  have  winked  at  his  neighbours  when 
he  declared  that  he  sold  no  liquor  and  everything 
would  have  gone  off  pleasantly. 

Things  might  have  gone  on  smoothly  anyhow  and 
no  questions  would  have  been  asked,  if  that  trouble 
some  Rector  Warne  had  not  stirred  up  Mr.  Hatton. 
The  Old  Mogul  had  set  the  Law  and  Order  Society  in 
motion,  which  sent  its  detective  in  Casey's  direction 
to  bring  him  to  justice.  Strangely  enough  all  this 
machinery  did  not  break  down  at  any  point  and  Casey 
was  arrested.  Why  should  new  men  and  rich  men 
and  lawful  and  orderly  citizens  and  hireling  detectives 
interfere  with  the  personal  rights  and  liberties  of  peo 
ple  who  mind  their  own  business  and  sell  a  little  drink 
in  a  quiet  way? 

It  seemed  like  mixing  religion  and  business  for  a 
clergyman  to  move  in  the  matter,  but  Rector  Warne 
was  showing  a  very  business-like  sort  of  religion  in 
Coalton  in  those  days. 

"  I  ain't  got  no  objections  to  religion,  parson," 
Owens,  the  licensed  saloon  keeper  said.  "  I  know 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  religion.  I  had  the  feelin's 
once  meself,  all  right  enough.  It  was  when  Moody 
an'  Sankey  was  in  Wales.  I  was  a  good  livin'  man 


248  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

for  a  while  afterwards.  That  was  before  I  was  hurt 
an'  lost  me  hand.  After  that  I  had  to  do  somethin' 
light  and  so  I  took  to  hotel  keepin'.  I  ain't  forgot  to 
this  day  the  feelin's."  The  saloon-keeper's  eyes  grew 
almost  tender  for  a  moment  as  the  rector  urged  the 
claims  of  a  better  life. 

"  I  tried  it  once  till  I  lost  me  hand."  Owens'  face 
hardened  again  as  though  he  had  pulled  a  mask  over 
the  softened  lines  that  had  shown  for  a  moment.  "  I've 
lost  me  hand  now  an'  I  have  to  live.  But  I  had  the 
feelin's." 

"  No  you  don't  have  to  live,"  said  the  rector  sternly. 
"  You  have  to  do  the  will  of  God.  You  have  to  do  the 
thing  that  you  know  is  right.  He'll  see  that  you  get 
a  living.  If  He  doesn't  want  you  to  live  He'll  let  you 
die.  But  you  can  die  grandly !  " 

"  But  I  tell  you  I  had  the  feelin's." 

"  You  may  have  had  feelings,  but  you  never  had 
faith  or  you  would  not  have  gone  to  saloon-keeping." 

Owens  parried.  "  What  I  object  to  is  the  hypocrites 
that  you  put  up  with  that  ain't  been  converted.  You 
ought  to  be  more  careful  who  you  let  into  the  church; 
an'  you  ought  to  put  some  out  that's  got  in." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  some  poor  fellow  whose  name 
is  on  the  church  roll,  who  gets  drunk.  I  want  to 
ask  whether  a  man  who  falls  now  and  then  is  more  to 
blame  or  the  man  who,  even  though  he  has  lost  a 
hand,  sells  him  the  liquor  in  order  that  he  may  make 
his  living  more  easily?  I  'd  rather  starve " 

"  Hold  on,  parson !  I've  always  said  that  a  man's 
a  fool  who  drinks  whiskey  an'  I  say  it  still.  There's 


CASEY'S  SPEAK-EASY  249 

Breece.  Breece  has  heard  me  tell  him  so  a  hundred 
times.  But  it  ain't  Breece  that  I'm  callin'  a  hypocrite. 
It's  Bruce  Hardin.  There's  a  man  that  ought  to  be 
turned  out  of  any  decent  society.  Now  about  my  busi 
ness,  I've  just  this  much  to  say :  we  can't  all  be  preach 
ers.  Some  can  preach  an'  some  of  us  has  to  be  in  my 
business.  There'd  be  nobody  to  pay  the  preachers  if  we 
•was  all  preachers.  But  I've  me  feelin's  just  the  same." 

It  was  not  very  long  after  this  that  Helen  broached 
the  subject  of  Casey's  illicit  saloon. 

"  This  saloon  of  Casey's,  Henry ;  oughtn't  that  to 
be  closed  up  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  ought!  Of  course  it  ought!  "  But 
Henry  was  evidently  distraught. 

"  Would  there  be  any  trouble  about  getting  wit 
nesses?  It  surely  is  a  bad  place." 

"  I  know  it  is.  Owens  says  it  is  a  very  bad  place 
and  all  the  other  saloon-keepers  say  the  same  thing. 
I  tell  you,  Helen,  you  never  saw  so  sharp  a  line  drawn 
between  pots  and  kettles.  I  almost  fancy  Owens  and 
his  crowd  are  temperance  reformers  and  fanatics  until 
I  remember  their  business." 

"  But,  Henry,  now  about  Casey.  Why  don't  you 
try  to  shut  up  his  place  at  least  ?  " 

"  Well,  Helen,  I  imagine  I'm  weak  about  Casey. 
But  somehow  my  heart  goes  out  towards  him,  good- 
for-nothing  old  fraud  that  he  is.  I  have  hoped  to 
reach  him,  and  I  feared  if  I  took  drastic  measures  I 
should  never  get  an  entrance  to  his  heart.  Have  you 
ever  noticed  his  hands?  His  fingers  are  marked  and 
scarred  on  the  ends.  Years  ago  he  led  a  rescuing 


250  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

party  to  some  men  who  had  been  imprisoned  by  a 
fall  of  roof.  They  did  not  dare  to  carry  lamps,  for 
the  place  was  full  of  gas.  So  Casey  and  the  rest 
crawled  for  nearly  a  mile  in  the  dark  over  fallen  rock 
and  blocked-up  gangways,  guiding  themselves  only  by 
feeling  their  way.  When  they  came  out,  their  hands 
were  cut  and  bleeding.  You  know  the  edges  of  the 
fractured  coal  are  almost  as  sharp  as  broken  glass.  It 
was  a  most  noble  effort  at  rescue,  although  too  late  in 
reaching  the  entombed  men  to  save  any  but  that  worth 
less  Yawcup,  Katya's  husband." 

"  I  wish  you  hadn't  told  me  this.  I  want  to  feel 
indignant  at  Casey.  I  wish  when  people  were  bad 
they  would  just  be  bad  clear  through,  without  having 
any  noble  streaks  in  them.  Then  one  wouldn't  get 
mixed  up  in  judgments." 

"  That's  the  glory  of  the  place !  You  will  find  a 
man  utterly  common-place  or  even  bad,  and  then  you'll 
get  a  gleam  of  something  so  noble  and  heroic  in  his 
character  that  you  feel  like  baring  your  head." 

But  when  the  rector  discovered  that  Casey  was  en 
ticing  into  his  den  the  boys  from  the  breaker  and  sell 
ing  drink  to  them,  and  that  in  spite  of  warnings  and 
appeals  to  his  better  nature  Casey  continued  to  do 
this,  he  gave  the  word  and  the  agent  of  the  Law  and 
Order  League  made  the  arrest. 

Casey  had  been  under  arrest  more  than  once  before 
for  illegal  liquor  selling,  but  this  was  the  first  time 
he  had  been  brought  before  the  court.  In  the  first 
instance  when  Casey  had  been  arrested  by  the  agent 
of  the  League,  he  had  gone  to  the  office  of  Mr.  Hatton, 


CASEY'S  SPEAK-EASY  251 

the  president,  and  besought  sympathy  because  of  the 
sickness  of  his  wife,  promising  in  the  name  of  all 
the  saints  that  he  would  never  be  guilty  of  violating 
the  law  again. 

Believing  that  the  ends  of  civic  righteousness  would 
be  secured  if  the  illegal  saloon  were  closed,  the  Old 
Mogul  had  promised  that  he  would  not  prosecute,  pro 
vided  that  Casey  would  go  to  work  and  never  engage 
in  the  business  again. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  until  Casey  was  re 
ported  to  be  selling  drink  again,  and  one  night  a  most 
shameful  row  occurred  in  the  car,  during  which  the 
stove  was  upset,  the  furniture  broken  and  several 
men  badly  injured,  including  Casey  himself.  Again 
Casey  was  arrested,  this  time  by  one  of  the  men  who 
was  injured  on  the  night  of  the  fight,  and  again 
he  sought  Mr.  Hatton's  help  to  prevent  him  from  being 
brought  before  the  grand  jury. 

Casey  declared  by  all  that  was  holy  that  he  was 
the  victim  of  spite.  That  he  had  been  set  upon  and 
beaten  by  persons  to  whom  he  had  refused  to  sell 
liquor,  and  that  the  quarrel  and  the  prosecution  had  so 
wrought  upon  his  wife's  health  that  she  lay  in  the  little 
box  car  at  the  very  point  of  death. 

While  Casey  reiterated  this  story  and  while  Mr. 
Hatton  vainly  tried  to  get  rid  of  him,  the  detective 
of  the  Law  and  Order  League  sent  in  a  note  from 
the  outer  office  which  read : 

"  Offer  to  investigate  the  condition  of  the  health  of  Casey's 
wife.  If  he  agrees  to  the  proposal,  go  with  him  to  the  den  and 
meet  me  there." 


252  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

In  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Hatton,  willingly,  and  Casey, 
unwillingly,  were  on  their  way  to  see  the  woman 
supposed  to  be  dying.  When  they  arrived  at  the  box 
car  saloon,  Casey  hastened  to  the  back,  where  he  had 
built  a  little  lean-to  kitchen  out  of  dynamite  boxes, 
barrel  staves  and  such  bits  of  timber  as  he  could 
pick  up  about  the  mines.  He  told  Mr.  Hatton  that 
the  front  door  was  locked,  although  it  seemed  as  if 
it  was  ajar  and  the  sound  of  voices  came  from  within. 
When  Casey  reached  the  back  door,  there  stood  the 
detective  on  one  side  of  the  bar  holding  a  glass  of 
liquor  in  his  hands,  while  Casey's  wife  stood  on  the 
other  side  making  change  for  the  very  liquor  which 
she  had  just  sold. 

"  I'm  glad  to  find  your  wife  so  much  better  of  her 
illness,  Casey,"  the  agent  said,  smiling. 

"  Sure  it's  nowan  but  the  owld  divvil  himself  w'u'd 
timpt  a  poor  woman  to  do  sich  dirty  work!"  was 
all  that  Casey  could  say. 


ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN 


The  time  is  out  of  joint;  0  cursed  spite 
That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right!  " 

— HAMLET. 


XVII 

ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN 

WHEN  Casey  came  to  be  tried  the  jury  con 
sisted  of  eleven  men  and  Mr.  Burt  Hatton. 
It  was  Hatton's  first  jury  duty.  There 
is  some  doubt  whether  he  was  wanted  on  the  jury  at 
all,  for,  earlier  in  the  week,  he  had  been  challenged 
regularly  in  every  case  on  which  he  was  called,  from 
the  murder  trial  downward,  probably  because  he  was 
a  member  of  the  Reform  League.  But  when  the  case 
of  the  Commonwealth  versus  Peter  Casey  was  called, 
there  were  two  other  cases  on  trial  and  one  jury  out. 
The  panel  of  jurors  being  thus  exhausted,  it  was  im 
possible  to  conduct  the  business  of  the  court  unless 
the  jury  was  accepted  as  a  whole. 

The  criminal  court  docket  of  the  county  of  Anthra 
cite  was  clogged  with  cases.  So  great  was  the  amount 
of  business  that  beside  the  two  regular  judges  an 
additional  judge  had  been  called  in  from  a  neigh 
bouring  county.  It  was  before  him  that  the  case  of 
the  Commonwealth  versus  Casey  was  to  be  tried. 

The  case  went  on  merrily  from  the  first.  Several 
witnesses,  some  willing,  others  unwilling,  swore  to 
the  fact  that  they  had  purchased  liquor  from  Casey. 
All  that  Casey's  lawyer  could  do  to  discredit  this 
testimony  was  to  prove  by  cross-examination  that  the 

255 


256  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

prosecution  had  been  brought  through  spite.  When 
it  came  time  for  the  defence,  Casey's  attorney  dwelt 
eloquently  upon  the  spiteful  motive.  Since  Casey  had 
no  other  witnesses,  his  lawyer,  driven  by  the  neces 
sities  of  the  case,  put  the  defendant  himself  upon  the 
stand.  Casey  told  with  great  gusto  of  the  fight  which 
had  preceded  his  arrest.  Of  course  he  made  sweeping 
denial  of  the  charge  of  selling  liquor. 

When  Casey  had  finished  his  story,  the  prosecuting 
attorney  began  his  cross-examination  with  the  ques 
tion,  "  You  say  that  this  injury  to  your  wife  oc 
curred  on  the  night  of  the  fight  in  your  saloon  " 

"  I  don't  kape  no  saloon." 

"  Well,  your  place  down  there  in  the  box  car. 
Don't  you  know  that  she  was  hurt  at  the  funeral 
before  you  came  home?" 

"  Well,  she  was  at  the  funeral  wid  me." 

"  Wasn't  she  hurt  by  being  in  a  fight  in  which  you 
and  the  people  of  the  house  " 

"  No  sir,  I  wasn't  fightin'  wid  her  at  all,  at  all." 

"  Wasn't  she  thrown  dowrn  stairs  in  a  fight  in  which 
you  and  she  were  on  one  side  and  some  of  the  people 
of  the  house  " 

"  No  sir,  we  niver  was  on  wan  side  at  all.  We 
sthood  our  ground  right  in  the  middle  of  the  sthairs 
an'  defied  thim,  man  or  woman,  annywun  iv  thim  or 
the  whole  iv  thim." 

"  So  there  was  a  fight  and  you  got  the  worst  of 
it?" 

"  Niver  a  bit !  I  brok'  the  face  an'  blacked  the  two 
eyes  iv  him!  But  fwile  I  was  givin'  me  attintion  to 


ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN         257 

him  below  an*  fvvile  me  owld  woman  was  thryin*  to 
help  me,  by  flingin'  toobs  an'  thing's  at  him  from  the 
stoop,  wan  iv  the  ladies  come  out  behind  an'  t'rew 
her  down  the  stair.  Thin  we  tuk  the  hint  an'  wint 
home." 

"  Well,  when  they  drove  you  off  you  went  to  your 
own  place  in  the  car  ?  " 

"  We  wint,  but  it  was  kind  iv  shlow  like.  Sure 
we  c'u'dn't  walk  very  fast." 

"  You  couldn't  walk  very  straight,  you  mean.  Then 
when  you  reached  the  car,  you  found  that  your  friends 
who  had  put  you  out  at  the  funeral  had  reached  the 
place  before  you,  and  they  were  drinking  your  liquor?  " 

"I  was  off  attindin'  a  funeral,"  Casey  explained; 
"  an'  so  was  me  owld  woman.  I  lift  young  Mick 
Phelan  in  charge  iv  me  place,  if  annywan  should  want 
to  buy  a  bit  candy  or  lamp  wick.  I  don't  know 
fware  they  got  the  drink  from,  but  whin  me  an'  me 
owld  woman  come  home,  there  was  four  or  five  iv 
thim  in  me  little  place,  an'  all  iv  thim  was  that  full 
they  didn't  know  they  was  in  a  dacent  man's  house. 
I  jist  put  thim  all  out  together  an'  thin  they  cum  back 
on  me.  Tfiere  was  too  manny  iv  thim  fer  me  to  attind 
to  thim  all,  an'  they  got  the  bist  iv  me,  an'  bate  me 
an'  the  owld  woman  till  they  kilt  the  both  iv  us.  An* 
the  woman's  near  dead  yit,  so  she  is."  Casey's  anger 
was  rising  as  he  told  the  story  of  his  wrongs. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Casey,  don't  yon  know  that  you  are  in 
the  habit  of  keeping  jugs  of  liquor  in  that  car  for  the 
accommodation  of  anybody  who  has  the  money  to 
pay  for  a  drink?  " 


258  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  It's  a  dashed  lie!  "  shouted  Casey,  now  thoroughly 
angry.  A  sharp  reprimand  from  the  judge  completed 
his  discomfiture;  for,  having  answered  the  judge  in 
the  same  angry  manner  he  had  shown  toward  the  at 
torney,  he  realised  his  mistake;  and  before  his  own 
lawyer  could  warn  him  Casey  was  whining  out  a 
deprecating  apology,  which  ended  in  a  virtual  plea  of 
guilty.  His  attorney  tried  by  one  or  two  adroit  ques 
tions  to  cover  up  the  damaging  admission.  The 
prosecuting  attorney  contemptuously  refused  to  ask 
any  further  questions,  merely  repeating  Casey's  ad 
mission  to  the  jury. 

"  We  rest,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  court. 

"  That's  our  case,  your  honour,"  said  Casey's  at 
torney  gloomily. 

The  judge  turned  to  the  jury,  and  in  a  few  business 
like  sentences  directed  their  attention  to  the  facts  of 
the  case  as  shown  by  Casey's  own  story,  calling  special 
attention  to  the  admission  he  had  just  made  on  the 
witness-stand.  The  judge  waited  a  moment,  as  if  to 
take  the  verdict  from  the  jury  without  their  leaving 
the  box.  Hatton  leaned  over  to  whisper  to  Mark 
Owens,  of  the  Coalton  borough  council,  proposing 
such  a  verdict.  But  ten  of  the  men  had  already  risen. 
Owens  shook  his  head. 

"  Aw !  The  rest  of  the  boys  wants  a  smoke,"  he 
whispered  to  Hatton. 

Casey  leaned  his  elbows  on  the  table  and  lowered 
his  face  into  his  hands,  while  the  "  jury  of  his  peers  " 
stolidly  and  majestically  filed  past  him  in  the  wake 
of  the  officer  of  the  court. 


ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN        259 

Owens  and  Hatton  were  the  last  to  enter  the  jury- 
room.  To  the  surprise  of  the  latter,  a  perfect  Babel 
of  indignation  arose  against  the  district  attorney,  the 
spiteful  prosecutor,  the  judge,  and  even  against 
Casey's  attorney  for  allowing  him  to  be  trapped  into 
a  confession.  They  were  evidently  sympathising  with 
"  Poor  Casey." 

"  An'  what  c'u'd  the  poor  man  do  but  keep  a  place, 
with  his  wife  a  hirplin'  cripple  ?  "  asked  Phelan,  a 
burly  miner  who  was  visibly  under  the  influence  of 
liquor. 

"  He's  got  to  live,  even  if  he  don't  have  no  rint  to 
pay." 

"  There's  worse  men  than  Casey  that  holds  licenses 
from  this  court,"  one  of  the  men  asserted,  beginning 
a  long  story  about  a  case  that  had  been  ignored  by  the 
same  grand  jury  which  had  found  a  true  bill  against 
Casey. 

Owens  cut  him  short.  "  I  nominate  Mr.  Hatton 
as  foreman." 

There  were  one  or  two  voices  to  protest  that  Owens 
himself  should  act  in  that  capacity,  but  he  modestly 
ignored  them,  and  declared  that  Hatton  had  been 
unanimously  elected. 

Hatton  had  heard  how  the  jury  commissioner  of 
the  county  of  Anthracite  had  abused  his  privileges  as 
an  officer  by  placing  in  the  jury-wheel  the  names  of 
his  political  admirers,  men  notoriously  incompetent 
for  such  service.  Most  of  these  men  seemed  to  be 
from  the  commissioner's  district.  Hatton  was  secretly 
flattered,  therefore,  to  be  chosen  foreman.  He  took 


26o  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

his  seat  at  the  oak  table  with  a  graceful  speech  of 
acknowledgment,  ending  with  the  words,  "  We  are 
all  no  doubt  heartily  sorry  for  this  poor  fellow  who 
has  confessed  his  guilt;  but  I  believe  we  are  all  very 
glad  that  his  guilt  is  so  clearly  established  that  we  are 
in  no  danger  of  doing  any  injustice  by  bringing  in  a 
verdict  of  guilty." 

To  this  speech  there  was  no  response  except  an 
ominous  grumble  on  the  part  of  the  juror  who  had 
been  drinking,  whom  Owens  was  endeavouring  to 
silence. 

Hatton  took  the  pen  and  prepared  to  record  the 
verdict.  "  I  am  ready  to  entertain  a  motion  to  bring 
in  a  verdict  of  guilty,  gentlemen." 

"Who'll  give  me  the  loan  of  a  match?"  Phelan 
asked.  Pipes  were  produced,  and  the  men  began  to 
discuss  the  murder  case,  on  which  the  jury  had  been 
out  for  two  days. 

Hatton  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair,  waiting  for  a 
break  in  the  noisy  conversation.  "  We  ought  to  at 
tend  to  this  case  first,  gentlemen,"  he  broke  out  at 
length. 

"  Yes;  let's  take  a  vote  and  see  how  we  stand,"  as 
sented  Owens. 

Hatton  began  at  once  to  go  down  the  roll.  The 
first  man  whose  name  he  called  answered,  "  Not 
guilty." 

Owens  and  two  others  announced  themselves  as  not 
yet  ready  to  vote.  But  besides  these,  to  his  amaze 
ment,  Hatton  found  that  he  and  one  other  were  the 


ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN        261 

only   jurors  who   had    voted    for   conviction.      That 
other  man  was  Phelan,  the  drunken  miner. 

Hatton  faced  the  men  with  fierce  determination. 
This  was  the  famous  jury  system!  He  was  outraged, 
disgusted.  Then  he  reflected  that  these  men  were 
ignorant.  No  doubt  they  were  prejudiced.  There 
must  be  some  who  were  honest  among  them.  He 
would  instruct  them,  would  win  them  to  his  side. 

"  I  should  think,  Mr.  Owens,  that  you'd  want  this 
man  to  be  punished,"  Hatton  said. 

"  He  don't  hurt  my  business,"  Owens  replied.  "  I'm 
only  here  to  see  justice  done." 

Then  Hatton  made  an  address,  calm  and  dispassion 
ate,  calling  on  Phelan,  when  he  closed,  to  support  him. 
Phelan  was  lighting  a  fresh  pipe,  and  all  he  would 
say  was :  "  If  Casey — p-p! — didn't  want  to  get  pinched 
—p-p! — why  did  he  get  into  sich  a  fool  fight — p-p! 
An'  if  he  didn't  want  to  get  sint  up — p-p! — what  did 
he  confess  for?  Poo!" 

There  was  more  talk  about  the  murder  trial.  Then 
some  stories  about  trials  under  a  former  judge.  The 
men  sprawled  over  the  chairs  or  looked  out  the  win 
dows.  It  was  growing  dark.  Hatton  was  becoming 
uneasy.  Even  Phelan  might  desert  to  the  other  side; 
it  was  so  hard  to  resist  the  preponderance  of  opinion. 
Phelan  had  been  the  last  man  to  cast  his  vote  and 
Hatton  was  by  no  means  certain  that  he  had  voted 
according  to  his  convictions. 

Another  ballot  was  taken,  the  result  being  exactly 
as  at  first.  It  was  entirely  dark  outside  now,  and  the 


262  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

men  who  had  voted  for  acquittal  seemed  to  be  grow 
ing  more  interested  in  the  case  in  hand.  They  were 
talking  in  little  groups  with  those  who  had  not  yet 
voted  either  way.  Hatton  imitated  their  methods.  He 
left  his  chair,  buttonholing  men  who  would  listen  to 
him,  and  urging  his  views  vehemently. 

Then  a  tipstaff  opened  the  door  to  say :  "  Boys, 
ain't  you  ready  with  that  verdict  yet?  Court  will 
adjourn  in  ten  minutes.  Hurry  up,  now :  we  want 
to  get  home." 

Hatton  took  advantage  of  the  lull  which  this  mes 
sage  produced  to  call  the  roll  again.  He  was  delighted 
to  find  that  the  vote  now  stood  five  to  seven  for  con 
viction.  Again  he  made  an  address,  recalling  the 
crisp,  business-like  sentences  of  the  judge.  He  tried 
to  get  Owens  to  speak,  since  he  had  now  voted  for 
conviction,  but  he  declined  on  the  ground  that  he  got 
speech-making  enough  at  the  council  meetings.  At 
his  recommendation  another  ballot  was  taken,  which 
showed  another  gain  of  two  for  conviction. 

Owens  now  proposed  that  the  case  be  decided  by  a 
majority  vote.  Hatton  hesitated  between  the  desire 
to  be  able  to  arrive  at  a  verdict  speedily  and  the  wish 
to  be  fair  to  the  minority,  who  were  vehemently  de 
claring  for  acquittal. 

"  If  there  is  no  objection — if  no  one  opposes  this 
plan  "  —he  stammered  eagerly. 

"  O,  it's  all  right,"  said  Owens  cheerfully.  "  The 
majority  rules.  If  I  don't  enjoy  takin'  my  medicine 
when  I'm  on  the  losin'  side,  why,  I  give  it  to  the  other 
fellow  the  next  time." 


ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN        263 

There  was  no  dissenting  voice,  and  the  final  vote 
was  taken. 

"  Not  guilty,"  came  the  answers  until  five  votes 
were  recorded.  Hatton  drew  a  breath  of  relief  that  the 
opposition  was  all  in. 

"  James  Phelan  ?  "  he  called. 

"  Not  guilty."     The  shock  staggered  the  foreman. 

"  A  tie,"  he  thought  in  dismay. 

"  Mark  Owens  ?  "  he  went  on. 

"  Not  guilty." 

He  saw  it  all  now.  He  had  been  duped.  No  need 
to  call  the  other  names.  Yet  he  went  on  mechanically 
until  all  the  eleven  men  had  recorded  their  votes  for 
acquittal.  Here  were  these  honest  men,  the  peers  of 
Casey,  indeed!  He  had  thought  them  ready  to  be  in 
structed  in  the  law  and  the  evidence,  needing  only  to 
be  led,  sworn  to  "  well  and  truly  try  and  true  deliver 
ance  make." 

No  wonder  he  was  angry  and  said  things  that  he 
might  better  have  kept  to  himself.  He  flung  down  the 
pen  and  went  to  the  window. 

The  streets  were  crowded  with  people  hurrying 
home  from  the  stores  and  from  business.  He  could 
stay.  He  could  starve  them  out.  At  least,  he  would 
not  give  his  consent  to  such  a  monstrous  wrong  as 
these  men  proposed  to  do. 

But  that  was  not  so  easy.  The  men  all  avoided 
him  as  if  he  were  a  moral  outcast.  He  was  breaking 
his  agreement  and  doing  them  all  an  injury. 

The  night  was  one  long  horror.  Phelan,  stupefied 
by  the  liquor  he  had  drunk,  lay  down  on  the  floor  and 


264  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

slept.  The  air  grew  thicker  with  the  smoke.  Some 
body  produced  a  pack  of  cards,  and  the  men  who  did 
not  play  sat  about  the  table  and  commented  on  the 
game.  Nothing  was  said  about  the  case.  Toward 
morning  Hatton  fell  into  a  doze.  It  must  have  been 
during  that  time  that  they  elected  Owens  foreman  in 
his  place;  for  when  Hatton  awoke  he  found  that  the 
copy  of  the  indictment  and  the  jury-list  were  missing 
from  the  window-ledge  where  he  had  flung  them. 
Phelan  still  snored. 

Hatton  was  still  obstinate,  although  hungry  and 
miserable.  He  would  go  into  the  court  and  tell  the 
judge  the  whole  story.  Then  he  remembered  with 
shame  that  he  had  been  the  foreman  and  had  agreed 
to  the  majority  rule. 

It  was  while  Bruce  Hatton  was  in  this  mood  of  self- 
abasement  that  Owens  ventured  to  remind  him  that, 
if  the  jury  disagreed,  Casey  would  go  free.  But,  if 
Hatton  would  agree  not  to  dissent  from  the  finding 
of  the  majority,  they  would  consent  to  put  the  costs 
on  the  prisoner.  Worn  out  and  utterly  wretched, 
Hatton  consented  just  before  the  hour  for  court  to 
convene. 

At  a  quarter  past  nine  they  stood,  an  unkempt  line, 
facing  the  judge. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  have  you  agreed  upon 
your  verdict?  " 

Mark  Owens,  smiling  and  alert,  nodded  in  reply. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  hear  your  verdict  in  the 
case  of  the  Commonwealth  against  Peter  Casey  as  the 
court  hath  recorded  it."  The  level  voice  of  the  clerk 


ELEVEN  CONTRARY  MEN        265 

•grew  suddenly  harsh  as  he  glanced  at  the  paper  and 
handed  it  to  the  judge.  :'  You  say  you  find  the  de 
fendant,  Peter  Casey,  not  guilty,  and  the  prisoner 
to  pay  the  costs.  And  so  say  you  all  ?  " 

"  What!  "  exclaimed  the  judge,  "  not  guilty?  Why 
he  confessed ! " 

The  jury  turned  to  leave  the  rail;  Hatton  drew  a 
breath  of  relief;  then  they  were  halted  by  the  severe 
voice  of  the  judge. 

"  Wait  a  minute.  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you  are 
discharged  by  the  order  of  the  court  from  further 
attendance  upon  this  court.  You  will  receive  your 
pay  from  the  county  treasurer;  but  in  this  case  you 
have  not  earned  it.  You  have  shamefully  violated 
your  oaths.  I  have  made  an  order  that  your  names 
should  be  taken  from  the  jury- wheel  and  that  you 
should  be  disqualified  forever  from  serving  as  jurors 
in  this  court.  My  only  regret  is  that  I  do  not  see 
my  way  clear,  under  the  laws  of  the  Commonwealth, 
to  order  you  into  the  custody  of  the  sheriff  for  pun 
ishment.  You  are  dismissed." 

Ten  minutes  later  Peter  Casey,  having  been  ex 
onerated  from  paying  the  costs,  upon  his  swearing 
that  he  had  no  means,  walked  down  the  court-house 
steps  a  free  man,  just  behind  Mr.  Burton  Hatton, 
member  of  the  Law  and  Order  League. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Old  Mogul  grew  dis 
couraged  with  the  attempt  to  make  people  better  by 
process  of  law  or  that  he  afterwards  refused  to  sup 
port  the  organization. 


MARY  LIZ 
IN  THE  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN 


"From  the  black  doorways  and  zvindows  of  the 
rookeries  on  every  side  came  gusts  vf  fetid  air.  The 
streets  and  alleys  reeked  with  the  effluvia  vf  a  slave-ship 
betiveen  decks.  Pale  babes  within  gasped  out  their 
lives  wnid  the  sultry  stenches." — BELLAMY. 


XVIII 

MARY  LIZ  IN  THE  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN 

IT  all  happened  through  the  fault  of  the  clerks  in 
the  railroad  office;  Mary  Liz  was  sure  of  that. 
If  they  had  not  teased  her,  she  never  would  have 
seen  Mr.  Hatton,  the  President  of  the  Anthrax  Valley 
Railroad,  and  of  course  she  never  would  have  insulted 
him.  But  now  she  was  disgraced,  and  was  being 
sent  in  charge  of  the  messenger  from  the  office  to  Mr. 
Warne. 

The  messenger  had  done  his  best  to  impress 
upon  her  that  she  ought  to  be  thankful  she  was  not  on 
her  way  to  the  station  house.  She  did  not  believe  a 
word  he  said  to  her,  so  far  as  that  was  concerned, 
but  she  felt  she  would  have  much  preferred  being 
sent  to  jail  to  being  sent  to  the  rector's.  She  did 
not  know  what  happened  to  people  who  were  sent  to 
ministers,  while  she  knew  a  great  deal  about  the  ways 
of  policemen.  She  would  have  darted  away  from  the 
messenger,  if  he  had  been  older;  but  as  he  was  little 
more  than  a  boy,  she  knew  he  would  catch  her  and 
she  wanted  no  more  tales  to  be  told  to  Mr.  Warne. 

For  some  minutes  after  the  messenger  handed  her 
over  to  Rector  Warne,  she  cried  so  when  he  tried 
to  talk  to  her  that  the  minister  had  not  the  slightest 

269 


270  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

notion  what  had  happened.  So  when  he  had  dis 
missed  the  messenger  and  had  comforted  her,  he  asked 
her  to  begin  again  at  the  very  beginning  and  tell  him 
everything. 

"  You  see,  it  was  about  Mr.  Breece,"  began  Mary 
Liz.  "  The  doctor  says  he'll  die,  if  he  don't  get  out 
to  the  country." 

"  Yes,  I  know  all  about  Mr.  Breece,"  said  the 
rector,  bowing  his  head  on  his  hand  and  groaning 
inwardly.  He  had  exhausted  both  the  resources  and 
the  patience  of  every  charitable  supporter  of  the  mis 
sion  in  behalf  of  other  cases  like  that  of  Breece.  It 
is  no  wonder  that  he  groaned. 

The  summer  had  been  a  most  trying  season.  Day 
after  day  the  sun  blazed  from  a  cloudless  sky  upon  the 
bare  mountain  sides.  Long-  years  ago  these  moun 
tains  had  been  covered  with  trees.  They  had  then 
been  famous  for  their  beauty.  But  the  trees  had  been 
sacrificed  to  make  props  for  the  roof  in  the  coal  mines 
and  the  mountains  were  shorn  of  every  sign  of  green. 
There  was  nothing  to  rest  the  eye. 

The  sides  of  the  mountains  were  so  steep  that  when 
the  forests  were  cut  down  the  scanty  soil  soon  washed 
away,  leaving  nothing  but  utter  barrenness.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  the  intolerable  heat,  one  might  have 
thought  it  was  winter,  so  absolutely  had  every  vestige 
of  green  disappeared  from  the  landscape.  Gray  shale 
and  black  culm  towered  above  the  narrow  valley  on 
every  hand.  Even  the  waters  of  the  creek  were  black 
with  the  waste  from  the  coal  washeries.  The  only 
relief  from  the  sombre  blackness  of  the  place,  was 


MARY  LIZ  in  the  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN    271 

where  the  sulphur  water  from  the  mines  had  coloured 
the  stones  of  the  creek-bed  and  the  garbage  from  the 
city  above,  a  rusty  red. 

At  one  point  a  bend  in  the  creek  had  enclosed  a 
swampy  tract  of  land,  where  a  few  birches  had  for 
a  time  managed  to  maintain  a  precarious  existence. 
These  had  furnished  a  yellowish-green  spot  of  colour. 
But  the  coal  company,  being  in  need  of  ground  for  a 
new  culm  dump  for  the  new  breaker,  had  built  a 
barrier  about  the  swamp  to  keep  the  desolating  flood 
of  grimy  mud  from  totally  obstructing  the  bed  of  the 
creek,  and  now  the  birches  were  dead,  strangled  to 
death  by  six  feet  of  black  slime.  Their  gaunt,  weather- 
beaten  branches  were  lifted  like  the  arms  of  a  drown 
ing  man  in  a  vain  struggle  for  life. 

The  town  crowded  in  between  the  steep  mountain 
side  and  the  creek.  In  many  places  the  houses  were 
built  along  a  single  street.  Where  the  creek  ran  nearer 
to  the  base  of  the  mountain,  the  houses  were  built  on 
one  side  of  the  street  only.  The  railroad  occupied  the 
other  side,  tunnelling  here  and  there  to  avoid  the 
sharp  turns  made  by  the  creek.  There  was  almost  one 
continuous  town  from  the  city  of  Carbonville  on  the 
mountain  top  clear  down  to  where  the  creek  fell  into 
the  river  and  the  coal  measures  disappeared. 

In  this  narrow  valley,  with  its  great  masses  of  rock 
and  culm  on  every  side,  the  heat  was  almost  unbear 
able.  As  if  it  were  not  enough  that  the  sun  blazed 
in  the  sky  above,  a  fire  burned  also  beneath  the  sur 
face  of  the  earth.  Not  that  it  really  heated  the  air  to 
any  great  degree,  except  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 


272  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

fan  house,  where  the  smoke  and  gases  were  pumped 
out  of  the  mine.  But  somehow  it  made  the  place  seem 
hotter  when  one  thought  that  there  was  a  raging  vol 
cano  of  flame  eating  its  way  through  the  vein  of  coal 
only  sixty  feet  below  the  cinder  sidewalks. 

It  would  only  be  a  few  days  until  the  water  from 
the  creek  would  be  piped  to  the  scene  of  the  con 
flagration  and  then  it  would  soon  be  quenched.  Mean 
while,  from  the  bore-hole  which  had  been  driven  from 
the  surface  through  the  intervening  rock  to  let  out 
the  air  so  that  the  water  could  be  forced  in,  a  six 
inch  stream  of  flaming  gas  roared  forth  day  and  night. 
This  blazing  torch  flamed  and  swayed  without  resting, 
sometimes  thrusting  its  tongue  full  twenty  feet  into  the 
air. 

Although  the  mountains  were  on  every  hand,  the 
conditions  of  life  were  very  much  the  same  as  in  the 
slum  districts  of  the  great  cities.  The  people  gasped 
for  breath,  the  children  sickened  and  the  feeblest  suc 
cumbed. 

The  rector  had  sorrowed  over  the  many  fresh 
screw  holes  in  the  doors  that  summer.  There  were 
few  houses  in  that  part  of  Coalton  where  he  went 
most  frequently  which  were  not  thus  marked.  This 
was  especially  true  of  the  company  houses,  where 
the  poorer  people  lived.  These  screw  holes  are  left 
in  the  door  when  the  undertaker  removes  the  eyelet 
which  holds  the  white  ribbon  from  the  day  of  death 
until  after  the  funeral. 

Rector  Warne  did  not  regret  the  loss  of  his  wealth, 
which  had  been  swept  away  after  he  entered  the 


MARY  LIZ  in  the  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN    273 

ministry,  except  when  he  saw  such  sights  as  these 
and  found  himself  unable  to  help  all  the  sufferers. 

He  sat  so  long  thinking  about  these  things,  that 
Mary  Liz  thought  he  had  forgotten  about  her.  She 
was  beginning  to  plan  to  slip  out  of  his  study,  when 
he  looked  up  again  and  said,  "  What  had  Mr.  Breece 
to  do  with  your  trouble  and  Mr.  Hatton's  sending 
you  to  me?  " 

"  I  went  out  collectin'  for  Mr.  Breece  so's  he  could 
go  to  the  country.  I  was  doin'  beautiful  while  I  stuck 
to  the  Patch.  I  wisht  I'd  never  gone  to  the  old  rail 
road  office  in  Carbonville !  "  she  said,  beginning  to  cry 
again.  "  We  had  it  all  fixed  so  nice:  Mrs.  Dolan  was 
goin'  to  take  me  in  with  her  an'  mother  was  goin' 
to  take  the  two  youngest  of  the  Breece  boys.  Of 
course  Janet  would  have  to  go  with  her  father  to 
take  care  of  him." 

Mr.  Warne  explained  gently  to  Mary  Liz  that  it 
would  take  a  great  deal  more  money  to  send  even 
Mr.  Breece  and  Janet  to  the  country  than  the  amount 
she  showed  him  tied  in  the  corner  of  her  handker 
chief.  "  But  tell  me  what  you  did  at  the  office,"  he 
said,  "and  why  you  were  sent  to  me?" 

"  It  was  after  their  dinner  time,  I  guess,  when  I 
got  there ;  for  the  men  was  havin'  a  daisy  time.  Thev 
were  just  mean  to  me,  that's  what  they  were !  It  was 
my  fault,  I  suppose,  but  they  ragged  me  an'  I 
sassed  'em  back.  They  wouldn't  give  me  a  cent, — 
only  one  man  who  give  me  that  quarter — that  was 
the  most  I  got.  All  the  rest  said  they  was  goin'  to 
Bar  Arbor  or  Tucksido  or  somewhere  on  their  vaca- 


274  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

tions.  They  ast  me  how  it  come  I  wasn't  spenditr  the 
summer  with  the  Vanderbilts  an'  why  Beerpont  Mor 
gan  wasn't  entertainin'  the  Breece  family,  an'  when 
I  wouldn't  answer  'em  they  called  me  the  Duchest  of 
Reagan's  Patch."  Mary  Liz  stopped  and  wrapped  her 
hands  nervously  in  her  faded  skirt. 

"  That  made  me  mad,  an'  I  told  'em  I  was  no 
Butcher  than  they  was.  While  I  was  sassin'  'em 
they  all  went  to  work  pretty  quick.  A  little,  low,  fat 
man  had  come  in,  but  I  didn't  see  him  at  first.  When 
they  wouldn't  answer  me  no  more  I  turned  to  leave 
and  run  plump  into  the  old  fat  man.  '  Barrett,'  says 
he  as  sharp  as  a  knife,  '  What's  all  this  noise  mean  ?  ' 
'  I  just  come  in,  sir/  says  the  man.  But  it  wasn't  so, 
for  he  was  one  of  the  worst  of  all  to  tease  me.  '  I'll 
tell  you  what,'  says  I,  an'  then  I  told  him  what  I 
was  collectin'  for  an'  that  they  hadn't  but  one  of  'em 
give  anything." 

"  Who  was  the  man  that  came  in  ? "  asked  the 
minister. 

"  Why,  old  Hatton." 

"  You  poor  child,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you 
asked  Mr.  Hatton  to  contribute  for  Mr.  Breece!  "  ex 
claimed  the  rector,  remembering  vividly  a  certain 
experience  of  his  own  with  that  gentleman,  at  the  end 
of  which  he  found  himself  in  the  corridor  of  the 
great  office  building,  feeling  that  somehow  he  had 
been  guilty  of  a  disgraceful  act  in  asking  assistance 
for  the  sick  man. 

"Yes,  I  did;  but  I  didn't  know  that  it  was  Mr. 
Hatton  when  I  ast  him." 


MARY  LIZ  in  the  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN    275 

"  Can  you  remember  every  word  you  said  and  all 
that  he  said?" 

"  I  told  him  that  Mr.  Breece  had  been  the  driver 
for  some  rich  man  for  a  long"  while  an'  now  he  was 
sick  an'  that  the  man  was  so  mean  that  he  wouldn't 
help  him  a  bit." 

"  Didn't  you  know  that  Mr.  Breece  was  Mr.  Hat- 
ton's  driver  until  he  was  taken  sick?" 

"No;  did  Mr.  Breece  drive  for  old  Hatton?  I 
thought  old  Hatton  acted  pretty  mad!  He  squirmed 
round  in  his  chair  an'  said,  Who  sent  me  there?  An' 
I  said  nobody.  An'  he  said  wasn't  I  lyin',  an'  looked 
at  me  real  sharp  an'  I  said,  no,  I  was  straight.  An' 
I  told  him  I  made  the  plan  all  up  meself.  Then  he 
said,  S'posin'  the  man  had  had  good  wages  all  these 
years  an'  hadn't  saved  anything,  was  the  railroad 
company  a  charity  organisation?  An'  I  said  I  didn't 
know  what  the  railroad  company  was,  but  the  man 
had  buried  his  wife,  an'  his  daughter  had  to  keep 
house  for  him,  an'  he  was  sick  now  for  fourteen 
months,  an'  the  family  earnin'  next  to  nothin'  an'  they 
couldn't  help  theirselves.  An'  he  said  it  was  all  rot 
an'  foolishness.  Why  didn't  the  man  bring  up  his 
sons  to  some  useful  trade,  'stid  o'  settin'  'em  up  to 
be  clerks  or  lawyers  or  somethin'?  They  didn't  need 
so  much  education  to  run  cars.  An'  I  said  that  Mr. 
Breece's  oldest  boy  was  killed  runnin'  cars  in  the 
mines  an'  they  all  had  a  horror  o'  the  mines.  An'  he 
said  they  was  above  their  business,  somebody  had  to 
be  killed  takin'  out  coal.  He  didn't  seem  to  say  it 
to  me,  but  he  said  over  again  that  all  this  chanty 


276  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

business  was  rot  an'  that  it  took  away  people's  self- 
respect  an'  made  'em  paupers  an'  that  they  couldn't 
tell  the  value  of  a  dollar  until  they  earned  it.  That's 
the  way  he  always  done." 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  he  said,"  the  rector  said  sadly 
again.  "  What  then,  did  he  thump  on  his  desk  or 
ring  a  bell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  thumped  on  his  desk  an'  ast  me  what  I 
was  waitin'  for?  I  told  him  how  we  was  goin'  to  fix 
it  to  take  care  o'  the  children  so  Janet  an'  her  father 
could  go  to  the  country,  an'  wouldn't  he  please  help? 
An'  he  said  he'd  told  me  no  wunst;  why  didn't  the 
churches  tend  to  such  things?  An'  I  told  him  about 
the  deaconess  an'  the  sick  fund  an'  the  day  nursery 
an'  how  Dr.  Creigan  went  to  see  the  sick  people  that 
was  too  poor  to  pay,  an'  all  the  rest  that  you  did  for 
the  people  here  at  the  church.  I  stood  up  for  you, 
Mr.  Warne,  I  did,  an'  told  him  I  knowed  if  you 
had  the  money  yourself  you'd  send  Mr.  Breece.  But 
I  said  you  couldn't,  'cause  people  said  the  Old  Mogul 
had  stole  all  your  money.  Did  he,  Mr.  Warne?  He 
didn't  steal  it  all,  did  he?  'Cause  I  know  you  paid  for 
Mrs.  Hetherington  yourself.  I  know  you  did,  Mr. 
Warne,  for  she  said  she'd  just  bet  you  did." 

As  the  rector  made  no  reply,  she  went  on.  "  Then 
he  said,  Why  didn't  I  ast  somebody  else?  An'  I 
said  there  wasn't  any  use  to  ast  the  Old  Mogul.  An' 
he  said,  did  I  know  who  he  was?  An'  I  said  no.  An* 
he  kind  o'  smiled  as  if  he  was  proud  to  hear  me  siy 
that  it  wasn't  no  use  to  ast  the  Old  Mogul,  an'  said 


MARY  LIZ  in  the  OLD  MOGUL'S  DEN    277 

'  Why  wasn't  it  no  use  ?  '  An'  I  said  everybody  said 
he'd  never  give  money  to  anybody.  An'  he  said  didn't 
everybody  say  the  Old  Mogul  was  too  sharp  to  be 
taken  in  ?  An'  I  said,  '  Hully  gee !  No.  They  said 
he  was  too  stingy ! '  An'  I  thought  some  o'  the  men 
in  the  outside  office  would  fall  off  their  chairs;  but 
nobody  looked  round." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  that?  "  asked  the  rector  smil 
ing. 

"  He  looked  awful  black  an'  growled  out,  '  They 
do?  Say  I'm  an  old  skinflint,  I  reckon.  Who  said 
that?'  An'  I  was  awful  scairt,  for  then  I  knowed 
that  he  was  the  Old  Mogul.  An'  I  says  kind  of  slow, 
'  Why,  everybody  says  so.'  I  wasn't  going  to  tell  no 
lie.  He  kind  o'  sunk  down  in  his  chair  for  a  minute 
an'  then  he  grabbed  up  his  pen  an'  scratched  away  in 
a  little  book  as  if  he  was  goin'  to  carve  the  paper  up. 
Then  he  called  out  '  Barrett,  look  in  the  d'rectory  an' 
find  where  Rector  Warne  lives  an'  take  this  child  to 
him.'  An'  he  tore  off  the  letter  as  if  he  was  tearin'  a 
piece  o'  cloth  an'  give  it  to  me  an'  says :  '  Take  that 
to  Mr.  Warne,  an'  if  what  you  say  is  true,  all  right; 
but  if  you've  been  collectin'  money  under  false 
pertenses,  I'll  have  you  sent  to  the  House  of  Correc 
tion  ! '  As  she  finished  her  story,  Mary  Liz  pro 
duced  a  paper,  much  soiled  and  crumpled  with  con 
tact  with  her  tear-soaked  handkerchief. 

"  Here's  the  letter.  I  could  have  throwed  it  away 
cm  the  car  or  pertended  I  lost  it.  That  boy  that 
brought  me  here  was  no  good.  He  would  have  been 


278  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

dead  easy.  But  you've  told  us  to  play  fair;  an'  I've 
told  the  dead  square  truth.  It's  no  difference  what 
he  wrote  down  there,  I've  told  you  every  word." 

"  I  believe  you,  Mary,"  said  the  rector  taking-  the 
paper.  In  a  moment  he  glanced  up  in  amazement. 

"Don't  you  know  what  a  check  is?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I've  checked  packages  lots  of  times  when  I 
was  a  '  cash  '  at  the  Bee-hive  in  Carbonville.  But 
that  ain't  a  check.  A  check's  round." 

"  Mary,  Mr.  Hatton  has  put  into  my  hands  as  trus 
tee  enough  money  to  send  the  whole  Brcece  family  to 
the  country  for  the  whole  summer  and  more  besides." 

Mary  Liz  wriggled  herself  clear  out  of  her  chair 
in  pure  delight.  "  Say!  "  she  cried,  "  the  Old  Mogul 
can  jaw  me  every  day  for  a  month  if  he  wants  to 
when  he  does  things  like  that!" 


THE  OLD 
MOGUL'S  FRESH  AIR  FUND 


If  thou  art  worn  and  hard  beset 

With  sorrows  that  thou  wouldst  forget, — 

//  thou  wouldst  read  a  lesson  that  will  keep 

Thy  heart  from  fainting  and  thy  soul  from  sleep, 

Go  to  the  woods  and  hills!     No  tears 

Dim  the  sweet  look  that  nature  wears." 

— LONGFELLOW. 


XIX 

THE  OLD  MOGUL'S  FRESH  AIR  FUND 

WITHIN  a  week  after  the  visit  of  Mary  Liz 
to  the  Old  Mogul's  office,  the  Breece  family 
were  camped  in  the  orchard  of  the  old 
Creigan  farmhouse  on  the  east  slope  of  the  Pocono 
mountain.  Here  there  was  room  to  breathe  and  here 
there  was  sweet  earth  and  cool  grass  to  lie  on. 

The  farm  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  great  Glacial  basin, 
once  an  enormous  lake  but  now  dry  for  the  most 
part,  except  here  and  there  where  there  is  a  rhododen 
dron  swamp.  This  is  almost  the  last  bit  of  wilderness 
east  of  the  Alleghany  mountains.  Here  the  white  arc 
tic  hares  have  lingered,  which  the  farmers'  boys  call 
"  big  dough-foot  rabbits."  It  is  even  whispered  that 
there  has  been  a  beaver  dam  built  in  the  wildest  part 
of  this  region  within  recent  years. 

The  Creigan  farm  had  long  been  abandoned,  except 
that  the  grass  was  cut  from  the  fields  and  stored  in 
the  old  barn.  Behind  the  stone  wall  of  the  orchard 
on  the  adjoining  farm  lay  a  field  of  buckwheat,  as 
fragrant  as  a  tropical  flower  garden,  which  was  mu 
sical  all  day  long  with  the  hum  of  bees. 

The  whole  landscape  was  immersed  in  green.  There 
was  not  a  hint  of  the  hard,  black  lines  of  the  Anthrax 
Valley  upon  these  highlands.  Even  the  tree  trunks 

281 


282  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

and  the  fences  were  softened  by  soothing  mosses,  and 
the  north  side  of  the  weather-beaten  barn  and  of  the 
stone  fence  flaked  with  lichens  so  delicate  that  they 
seemed  to  have  drifted  out  of  the  sky. 

Two  weeks  after  the  Breece  family  had  gone  to  this 
quiet  spot,  it  was  Miss  Ann  Creigan's  turn  to  draw 
her  breath  with  a  quick  gasp  of  wonder  over  a  letter 
which  she  received  containing  a  roll  of  crisp  bills,  just 
as  Janet  Breece  had  gasped  with  delight  over  the  same 
sort  of  letter  which  had  come  to  her.  The  rector's 
wife  had  written  it  also  in  such  a  way  that  Miss  Ann 
might  not  be  humiliated  by  receiving  what  she  would 
have  called  charity.  This  was  the  letter: 

"  MY  DEAR  Miss  ANN, — 

Will  you  not  allow  me  to  reach  out  into  our  friend 
ship  to  offer  you  the  enclosed?  It  is  not  my  own 
money  that  I  am  sending  to  you.  It  has  been  hal 
lowed  already  by  being  given  to  the  King,  and  I  am 
only  passing  it  on  to  you.  I  know  you  need  rest 
from  the  hard  work  which  you  have  done  so  bravely 
for  all  these  years.  I  should  think  it  would  be  unbear 
able  to  sew  furs  this  hot  weather.  My  heart  has 
gone  out  to  you,  during  these  long  months  since  your 
mother  was  taken  away.  I  know  you  must  have  been 
very,  very  lonely.  Now  just  drop  everything  and  go 
to  your  old  home  in  the  country  for  as  long  a  time 
as  you  can.  I  am  not  going  to  sign  my  name  to  this ; 
only  let  me  say  that  I  am  one  who  loves  you  and  one 

who  is,  like  yourself,     A  ~  „ 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  KING. 

"  It's  more  than  you  deserve,  Ann  Creigan,"  she 
said  to  herself  as  she  wiped  her  eyes.  Miss  Ann  had 
lived  so  much  alone  that  she  often  held  animated  con- 


OLD  MOGUL'S  FRESH  AIR  FUND    283 

versations  with  herself  when  there  was  any  difficult 
problem  to  be  settled. 

"  Here  only  last  week  you  were  grumbling  because 
you  had  to  work  such  long  hours,  when  you  knew  it 
was  a  blessing  that  the  daylight  lasts  so  long  now  that 
you  needn't  buy  any  oil.  And  now  you  are  a  regular 
aristocrat,  going  off  for  a  long  vacation.  Fifty 
dollars !  It's  more  than  you  deserve. — But,  Ann  Crei- 
gan,"  and  she  shook  herself  sharply  erect  as  she  spoke, 
"  I  declare  I'm  ashamed  of  you !  You  wouldn't  think 
of  going  off  to  enjoy  that  money  all  alone,  now  would 
you?  Go  straight  to  Mary  Lizzie  Gooch  and  divide 
up  with  her.  She  needs  it,  if  anybody  does.  Poor, 
little,  white-faced  thing !  " 

Half  an  hour  later,  Mary  Liz  sat  blissfully  smooth 
ing  out  the  crisp  bills  which  lay  in  her  lap,  after  Miss 
Ann  had  gone  home.  "  Ketch  me  goin'  to  the  coun 
try  !  Why  I'd  die  of  lonesomeness.  I'm  goin'  to  get 
a  lovely  new  dress,  I  am !  One  like  they  have  in  the 
show  window  at  the  Bee-hive.  I'm  goin'  to  Moun 
tain  Lake.  I'll  ketch  on  to  a  different  excursion  every 
day.  I'll  go  to  the  merry-go-round  every  night  an' 
I'll  ride  all  the  time.  I  won't  get  off,  except  to  change 
from  one  kind  of  animals  to  another.  An'  I'll  go  to 
the  dime  museum  an'  the  bicycle  railroad  an'  the  roller 
toboggan  slide  an'  the  crystal  maze.  I'll  have  ice 
cream  for  breakfast  an'  for  every  other  meal,  an'  all 
the  gum  I  want,  an'  I  won't  go  home  from  the  shows 
till  the  very  last  light's  turned  off.  I  wisht  I  was  a 
boy,  'cause  there's  some  shows  that  it  ain't  just  so  nice 
an'  proper  for  a  girl  to  take  in." 


284  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

A  week  later  Mary  Liz  came  into  Mr.  Warne's  li 
brary,  wearing  the  same  faded  dress  she  had  worn  on 
the  day  of  her  visit  to  the  Old  Mogul. 

"  Why,  Mary,  I  thought  you  had  gone  to  the  coun 
try?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  did  go  to  Mountain  Lake  with  the  Third  Ward 
Tigers  on  Monday,"  she  said. 

"  I  think  I  could  find  you  a  pleasanter  company  for 
a  pic-nic  than  that,"  Mr.  Warne  began. 

"  Oh,  the  crowd  was  all  right.  We  had  a  pretty 
good  time.  One  of  the  men  swum  out  in  the  Lake 
till  they  thought  he'd  drownded.  An'  there  was  some 
men  on  the  train  that's  goin'  to  vote  for  some  other 
man,  an'  they  'most  had  a  fight.  Owens's  Independent 
Club  is  goin'  up  to-morrow." 

It  was  evident  that  Mary  Liz  was  not  seeking  ad 
vice  on  the  question  of  excursions. 

"  Say,  Mr.  Warne,"  she  broke  out,  "  can't  there 
be  somethin'  done  for  that  baby  of  Mrs.  Jindy's?  " 

"  Why,  I  thought  it  was  well  again.  Hasn't  Dr. 
Creigan  been  attending  it?" 

"  It  \vas  better  till  the  hot  weather  come  back  last 
week  an'  now  it's  worse  than  ever.  I  just  believe  it'll 
die  like  all  the  rest.  It  cries  most  all  the  time.  Mon 
day  the  last  thing  I  heard  when  I  went  down  the  street, 
was  its  poor,  little,  weak  cry.  I  couldn't  get  it  out 
of  me  ears.  I  heard  it  all  the  time  the  orchestry  was 
playin',  an'  at  the  Lake  I  could  hear  it  like  it  was  out 
in  the  waves.  It's  cryin'  now.  I  know  it  is.  I  can't 
have  no  vacation  if  that  baby's  goin'  to  die!  See? 
But  it  ain't  got  to  die!  God  mustn't  let  it  die!  "  she 


OLD  MOGUL'S  FRESH  AIR  FUND    285 

added  fiercely,  "Not  '£  I  can  help  it!  I've  brought 
you  the  money  Miss  Ann  Creigan  give  me, — what's 
left.  I  wish  I  hadn't  spent  any  of  it.  They  took  the 
dress  back,  'cause  I  used  to  work  in  the  Bee-hive. 
The  gum's  all  been  chewed;  that  can't  be  returned. 
But  here's  twenty-two  dollars  and  thirteen  cents. 
Won't  that  do  some  good  ?  " 

"  Mary,  you  dear  girl,  it  will  do  some  good!  I'm 
sure  we'll  get  more  money,  if  you  can  give  like  this! 
But  you've  been  planning  to  do  so  many  things  with 
this  money;  can  you  give  them  up?" 

"  I  reckon  I  can  give  up  better'n  the  baby  can?  See? 
Besides,  I've  got  to  get  that  cryin'  out  of  me  ears,  or 
I'll  be  prostrated  nervious !  " 

When  once  the  collection  of  a  fund  for  a  fresh  air 
outing  was  under  way,  the  rector  and  Dr.  Creigan 
soon  established  a  colony  of  sick  babies  and  children 
with  their  mothers  at  the  old  Creigan  farm  house. 
Cheap  cots  and  mattresses  filled  with  sweet  oat  straw 
made  a  place  for  them  to  sleep.  The  healing  quiet 
and  pure  air  as  much  as  the  nourishing  food  put  new- 
life  into  the  puny  babies  and  the  weary  mothers. 

Here  they  could  sleep  inside  the  house  at  night. 

The  fact  that  there  were  a  number  of  sick  children 
to  look  after  in  the  old  farm  house  where  he  was  born, 
brought  Dr.  Creigan  up  the  mountain  three  days  in 
the  week.  The  old  doctor  found  almost  as  much 
pleasure  in  these  visits  as  though  his  professional 
services  were  not  required,  and  in  fact  after  the  babies 
had  been  for  a  few  days  on  the  mountain  his  medicines 
were  no  longer  needed. 


286  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  good  old  man  had  been  working  away,  mostly 
among  the  poor  foreigners  in  Coalton,  for  more  than 
a  score  of  years  with  hardly  a  day's  vacation.  He 
used  to  say  that  when  none  of  his  patients  were  in 
a  really  dangerous  condition,  so  that  he  might  have 
taken  a  little  holiday,  a  certain  eccentric  patient  of  his, 
one  of  his  few  wealthy  patrons,  always  chose  that  time 
to  die, — and  always  failed  to  do  so. 

One  afternoon  about  midsummer,  when  Dr.  Creigan 
and  Rector  Warne  were  visiting  the  sanitarium,  as 
they  had  come  to  call  the  little  colony  of  sick  and  con 
valescent  children  at  the  farm  house  on  Pocono 
Mountain,  Mr.  Hatton's  private  car  ran  on  the  switch 
to  wait  for  the  passing  of  a  coal  train.  The  rector 
persuaded  him  to  come  up  to  the  porch  where  it  was 
cooler,  and  to  see  the  crowd  of  convalescent  children. 
He  took  but  languid  interest,  until  Mr.  Warne  asked 
him  whether  he  had  ever  made  a  better  investment. 

"Why,  what  have  I  to  do  with  this?"  he  asked 
in  surprise. 

"  Not  everything,  but  the  principal  subscription  is 
yours." 

"  How's  that  ?  I  thought  I  gave  that  money  to  the 
girl  for  my  man  Breece?" 

"  So  you  did ;  and  the  doctor  and  I  gave  him  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  of  it  at  once  to  come  up 
here  and  camp  out.  He  sent  back  fifty  dollars  be 
cause  they  didn't  need  so  much.  We  gave  that  amount 
to  a  woman  who  was  working  herself  to  death,  on 
condition  that  she  should  come  here  to  the  house 


OLD  MOGUL'S  FRESH  AIR  FUND    287 

where  she  was  born  for  a  rest.  She  divided  her  gift 
with  the  same  little  girl  who  came  to  see  you.  The 
girl  gave  back  to  us  practically  all  her  share  to  get 
the  first  of  these  six  babies  out  of  the  heat  of  the 
valley.  We  took  some  other  money  that  was  given 
us  afterwards  to  buy  milk,  ice  and  other  supplies.  We 
are  paying  the  Breece  family,  who  rented  the  farm, 
and  Miss  Ann  Creigan  for  the  work  they  do  in  caring 
for  these  children,  out  of  the  other  hundred  you  gave 
for  Breece.  If  we  can  raise  the  funds,  we  hope  to  keep 
the  house  open  until  fall." 

'''  You  don't  mean  that  you  have  supported  a  family, 
given  a  poor  woman  a  vacation  and  brought  all  that 
mob  of  young  ones  out  here  on  that  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars?" 

'  That  and  a  very  little  more." 

"  Mr.  Warne,  you  ought  to  have  been  a  railroad 
man.  It's  a  pity  I  didn't  know  you  before  you  got 
to  preaching.  If  I  had  got  hold  of  you,  I  could  have 
trained  you  so  there  wouldn't  have  been  a  sharper 
superintendent  in  the  state." 

"  The  doctor  had  as  much  to  do  with  it  as  I  had, 
and  the  girl  had  more  to  do  with  getting  it  started 
than  either  of  us." 

"  By  the  way,  where  is  that  little  hustler  of  a  girl? 
Isn't  she  going  to  have  any  of  the  fun?  I  call  that 
shabby!  Bring  her  up  here  and  make  some  sort  of 
place  for  her.  I  don't  know  but  what  I'll  have  to 
make  a  railroad  man  of  her.  But  anyhow,  we'll 
establish  a  vacation  fund  and  you  may  call  it  for  the 


288  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Old  Mogul,  if  you  like.  Draw  on  me  for  the  funds. 
No,  I'm  not  the  one  to  thank.  Only  keep  the  farm 
house  filled  with  babies  until  frost  and  have  that  girl 
up  here  to  help  take  care  of  them.  There,  I  think  I 
hear  that  coal  train  whistling." 


THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY 


"  Duty  makes  us  do  things  well;  love  makes  us  do 
them  beautifully." — BROOKS. 

"  Matters  not  in  deserts  old, 

What  was  born  and  waxed  and  yearned, 
Year  to  year  its  meaning  told, 
I  am  come, — its  deeps  are  learned." 

— INGELOW. 


XX 

THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY 

IT  was  a  purely  domestic  picture  in  the  rectory. 
Rector  Warne  was  just  completing  the  plans  for 
the  new  building    of    the    Mudtown    Mission. 
From  time  to  time  he  glanced  up  from  the  blue  prints 
to  look  approvingly  at  Mrs.  Warne,  who  sat  sewing, 
not    fancy  work    nor    ecclesiastical    embroidery,    but 
darning  stockings  for  active  little  Warne  feet. 

Presently  they  began  talking  of  Burt  Hatton,  and 
Mrs.  Warne  said  with  the  most  asperity  of  which  she 
was  capable,  "  I  do  wish  you  wouldn't  have  anything 
to  do  with  him.  I  can't  understand  how  you  can 
tolerate  such  a  man !  If  he  came  to  our  church 
and  was  behaving  as  a  Christian  should,  it  might  be 
your  duty  to  be  friendly.  But  he's  just  like  his  father, 
a  hard,  selfish  man.  You  know  how  old  Mr.  Hatton 
made  his  money.  Just  think  of  the  men  whom  he 
ruined  in  order  to  build  up  his  own  fortune!  He  has 
been  a  perfect  outlaw  in  the  business  world  all  through 
his  career.  Don't  you  remember  what  he  said  when 
our  Guild  went  to  him  for  a  contribution  for  the 
family  of  that  man  who  was  killed  in  the  Hatton 
mine?  He  didn't  even  ask  the  solicitor  to  sit  down 
and  when  she  told  her  errand  he  growled  out :  '  It 
takes  men  to  run  our  business  as  well  as  money.  We 

291 


292  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

have  to  throw  away  some  money  in  order  to  make 
more  money  and  we  have  to  kill  some  men.  You 
can't  expect  us  to  take  care  of  all  the  people  connected 
with  those  who  have  happened  to  work  for  us  at  one 
time  or  other — so  we  won't  take  care  of  any.  Treat 
'em  all  alike.  That's  business.  That's  the  only  way.' ' 

She  shivered  as  she  said  this  and  the  rector  was 
glad  that  the  telephone  bell  called  him  out  of  the  room 
for  a  few  minutes. 

It  was  a  curious  friendship  which  had  sprung  up 
between  Rector  Warne  and  Burt  Hatton.  Young 
Hatton  was  not  a  member  of  the  rector's  congrega 
tion.  Indeed  he  had  never  been  a  church-going  man 
in  Coalton  or  anywhere  else.  The  friendship  did  not 
exist  because  of  his  liberality,  for  the  rector  had 
never  received  anything  from  him  either  for  the 
church  or  for  benevolent  objects.  Old  Mr.  Hatton 
attended  to  that,  at  those  rare  intervals  when  any 
thing  was  to  be  given  by  the  Hattons.  In  fact  it 
was  more  because  Burt  Hatton  needed  a  friend  than 
for  anything  else  that  the  rector  had  sought  his 
friendship.  He  seemed  such  a  lonely  man,  yet  capable 
of  much  that  was  good.  Because  of  his  isolation,  the 
rector  sought  him.  Since  he  had  become  the  super 
intendent  of  his  father's  railroad  and  spent  his  days 
driving  business  from  the  headquarters  overlooking 
the  new  yards  at  Coalton,  Burt  Hatton  seemed  utterly 
devoted  to  business  to  the  exclusion  of  all  social  re 
laxation. 

Mrs.  Warne  was  not  pleased  over  this  friendship. 
Kate  Hatton  was  her  dear  friend  and  she  was  so  loyal 


THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY    293 

to  Mrs.  Hatton  that  she  could  not  bear  that  the  rector 
should  become  intimate  with  Kate's  husband. 

When  Warne  came  back  from  the  telephone  his 
wife  began  again :  "  Burt  Hatton  is  just  like  his  father. 
He's  no  longer  a  spendthrift;  he's  a  screw.  Nobody 
dares  to  hope  for  mercy,  who  falls  into  his  clutches." 

"  Helen,  you  are  hard  on  him." 

"  Possibly.  His  wife's  my  friend.  No  man  has  a 
right  to  be  so  comfortable  whose  wife's  face  is  as 
pitifully  sad  as  that  of  Kate  Hatton." 

"  But  it  isn't  in  character  for  you  to  be  so  prej 
udiced." 

"  No?  I'm  so  glad.  You'll  find  me  ever  so  much 
more  charming  to  live  with,  if  I'm  not  too  monotonous 
in  character." 

"  I  don't  believe  you'd  be  so  hard  on  him,  if  he 
was  one  of  the  men  who  work  in  the  mines." 

"  You're  right.  I  wouldn't.  I  find  that  to  me  coal 
dirt  on  the  face  covers  a  multitude  of  sins.  It  is  just 
that  he  knew  better  and  had  a  chance  and  did  wrong. 
So  I'm  hard  on  him  where  I'd  be  charitable  to  one  of 
our  poor  foreigners." 

Then  the  bell  rang,  and  as  Mrs.  Warne  left  the 
study  by  one  door  Mr.  Burt  Hatton  entered  it  by 
another.  He  was  evidently  labouring  under  some 
strong  excitement,  and  made  most  blundering  answers 
to  the  rector's  welcome. 

In  a  few  moments  he  made  a  plunge :  "  Mr.  Warne, 
will  you  help  me  if  I  need  you?  " 

Would  he  help?  The  rector's  ears  were  ever  open 
to  a  cry  like  that. 


294  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  I  was  sure  you  would,"  Hatton  went  on.  "  If 
I  hadn't  felt  that,  I  wouldn't  have  come.  God  knows 
where  I  would  have  gone.  It  would  be  no  use  to  go 
to  the  men  at  the  clubs.  They  wouldn't  understand. 
What  I  want  to  do  is  to  talk  with  some  man  who  has 
a  home  of  his  own  and  a  wife  and  child  of  his  own 
and  a  man  who  loves  above  all  things  else  to  be  with 
them.  Did  you  ever  lose  a  child  ?  " 

The  rector  answered,  "  No,  but  I  think  I  under 
stand." 

Mr.  Hatton  bent  his  head  down  on  his  hand  and 
rested  his  elbow  on  the  desk  for  a  moment  and  then 
went  on.  '  You  can  imagine  how  it  would  be  to  lose 
one.  I  never  spoke  of  this  to  a  living  soul  before. 
I  suppose  you  know  all  about  me;  what  a  failure  I've 
been?" 

"  The  world  counts  you  successful." 

"  Possibly  I  am  by  Bradstreet's  standard.  But  Mr. 
Warne,  I  have  known  all  along  that  in  your  eyes  I've 
failed.  And  lately  I've  been  a  failure  by  my  own 
standards, — and  they're  none  too  high." 

"  Your  accounts  are  not  settled  yet,  so  it  isn't  too 
late  still  to  straighten  them  up." 

"  I'm  not  in  the  habit  of  talking  about  my  own 
affairs,  but  I'm  going  to  to-night. — If  you  are  to  help 
me,  you  ought  to  know  all  about  them.  You  know 
my  wife,  from  whom  I  am  separated.  I  wonder  if 
you  know  how  perfectly  intolerable  it  has  been  some 
times  to  live  in  the  same  vicinity  with  her,  under 
these  conditions?  " 

"  I  have  imagined  it," 


THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY    295 

"  There  was  no  help  for  it.  It  wasn't  of  my  choos 
ing.  Coalton  had  always  been  her  home  and  my  busi 
ness  interests  have  been  here  though  I  lived  in  Car- 
bonville.  You  probably  know  the  beginning  of  our 
troubles,  so  I'll  be  brief.  We  were  each  barely  nine 
teen  when  we  were  married.  It  was  a  runaway  match. 
She  was  as  good  a  woman  as  ever  lived.  Well,  we 
were  very  young.  I  certainly  had  enough  faults;  per 
haps  she  wasn't  always  very  wise.  But  the  blame 
was  all  mine.  I  suppose  we  got  tired  of  each  other. 
We  were  only  hot-headed  boy  and  girl.  My  mother 
was  dead,  but  my  father  might  have  patched  it  up  if 
he  hadn't  been  so  busy  making  money.  Her  father 
tried  to,  but  I  wouldn't  listen.  At  any  rate,  in  less 
than  two  years,  we  parted.  I  tried  Stockholm  for  a 
summer  with  the  American  consul,  who  was  a  college 
friend  of  mine.  It  was  no  use.  I  was  lonely  for  my 
wife,  but  I  wouldn't  make  the  first  advance.  Then  I 
came  back  here  and  tried  the  clubs,  but  they  were  no 
better.  Nothing  pleased  me  long. 

"  Then  I  came  into  the  office  here.  Nobody  knew 
why  I  did  it,  but  the  truth  is,  I  wanted  money.  Not 
for  myself.  My  wife  and  child  were  in  need  through 
the  business  failure  of  her  father.  I  couldn't  bear  that 
she  should  want  funds.  She  doesn't  know  that  the 
money  comes  from  me.  I  manage  that  through  her 
attorney.  I  give  her  all  the  money  he  can  persuade 
her  to  use.  She  thinks  it's  some  claim  of  her  father's 
estate  that  was  saved. 

"  A  little  more  than  a  year  ago  the  baby  girl  died 
..  Excuse  me.  I  never  got  over  that.  You 


296  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

never  saw  her,  or  you  wouldn't  think  me  partial  when 
I  call  her  an  angel." 

It  was  a  raw  spot  he  was  laying  bare,  but  he  set  his 
teeth  hard  and  with  a  gesture  silenced  the  sympathy 
springing  to  the  rector's  lips. 

"  Thank  you !  You're  very  kind.  She  had  the 
most  beautiful  fair  hair  I  ever  saw.  Like  her  mother's. 
And  such  eyes,  so  large  and  wistful  and  trusting.  I 
never  had  her  in  my  arms;  her  mother  and  I  parted 
before  she  was  born.  But  I  often  used  to  see  her 
with  the  nurse  on  the  street. 

"  I  happened  to  be  in  Duluth  when  she  died.  Ma 
lignant  scarlet  fever.  There  was  an  epidemic  among 
our  people's  children  up  at  the  mines  and  it  was  sup 
posed  the  child  caught  it  through  the  laundress,  or 
something  of  that  kind.  My  wife  asked  Doctor  Crei- 
gan  to  telegraph  me  and  he  told  me  all  the  particulars 
after  I  came  home.  They  had  buried  her  before  I 
could  reach  home. 

"  I  think  possibly  the  breach  would  have  been  healed 
beside  our  child's  grave,  if  it  had  not  been  for  my 
wife's  brother,  Bruce  Hardin.  He's  a  scoundrel,  and 
he  knew  that  I  knew  it  and  hated  me  accordingly. 
As  luck  happened,  it  was  just  at  this  crisis  when  I 
had  him  first  hauled  up  for  cheating  the  company  with 
one  hand  and  the  men  with  the  other.  Then  he  man 
aged  to  poison  Kate's  mind  against  me,  so  that  she 
was  not  ready  to  receive  my  overtures  toward  recon 
ciliation  and  I — how  could  I  have  been  such  a  fool — 
grew  angry  again  and  the  breach  was  made  wider. 


THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY    297 

No,  you  needn't  tell  me  a  thing  about  the  wrong  of 
it;  I  know  it  all  now." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  change  your  views?  " 

"  Well,  several  things  sort  of  piled  up.  First  there 
was  a  longing  for  my  wife,  that  all  my  bitter  thoughts 
could  not  smother.  You  with  your  wife  and  child  and 
happy  home  can  have  no  idea  of  the  great  loneliness 
and  longing  which  have  come  over  me  sometimes." 

An  odd  little  smile  hovered  around  the  rector's 
mouth.  "  Possibly  I  know.  The  rectory  has  not  al 
ways  had  a  mistress." 

"  Then  over  a  week  ago  I  was  down  in  the  mine. 
While  I  was  waiting  for  the  cage,  a  man  by  the  name 
of  Hudderfield,  old  Sunderland  Red,  they  call  him, 
was  talking  to  some  of  the  men,  a  kind  of  sermon  on 
the  duty  of  forgiveness.  You  can't  get  rid  of  him. 
You  have  to  listen  to  him.  He's  really  a  wonderful 
sort  of  man.  I  was  annoyed  at  first,  but  before  he 
finished,  I  saw  some  things  that  have  come  between 
Kate  and  me  a  little  plainer  than  I  ever  did  before. 
Just  on  the  heels  of  this  a  queer  thing  occurred.  Kale 
has  opened  a  day  nursery  at  the  upper  end  of  town 
here  with  the  money  I  send  her,  as  a  sort  of  memorial 
to  our  child.  Some  time  ago  I  happened  to  see  the 
nursery  and  I  liked  it  so  well  that  I  started  another 
at  the  Hatton  mine  as  my  memorial.  I've  been  out 
there  since  then  to  look  the  thing  up.  You  know  how 
many  people  are  hurt  or  killed  about  the  mines,  and 
they  always  leave  a  lot  of  children.  I  was  up  there 
again  the  other  day  and  attended  a  meeting  for  the 


298  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

mothers.  About  time  to  close,  a  forlorn,  faded  woman 
came  in,  dressed  in  mourning  and  leading  a  little 
child.  If  it  had  been  my  own  child,  it  couldn't  have 
been  more  like  her.  Not  the  face  only,  but  the  eyes, 
hair,  gait  and — everything.  The  father  had  been 
killed  three  years  ago  in  our  mines,  and  she  wanted  to 
know  whether  the  girl  could  be  taken  care  of  while  she 
went  out  to  wash.  If  there  wasn't  another  child  in 
the  institution  it  should  be  kept  going.  She  brought 
with  her  a  note  from  my  wife,  asking  the  teacher  to 
bring  the  case  to  my  attention.  This  broke  me  all  up. 
I've  simply  got  to  make  it  up  with  Kate.  I  can't  stand 
it  any  longer." 

"  Have  you  done  anything  to  bring  about  a  recon 
ciliation?  " 

"  Well,  I  wrote  to  her  and  told  her  the  way  I  felt, 
begging  her  to  see  me.  That  was  yesterday,  but  I 
haven't  heard  from  her." 

"Do  you  know  whether  she  received  the  letter?" 

"  I  sent  it  with  Mick  Phelan." 

"  Would  he  be  sure  to  deliver  it?  " 

"  I  told  him  I'd  break  every  bone  in  his  body  if  he 
failed  to  give  it  into  her  own  hands." 

"  A  gentle  kind  of  way  to  send  a  message  of  peace, 
wasn't  it?" 

"  You've  got  to  lay  Mick  out,  but  I  gave  him  a 
dollar,  so  I  think  he's  all  right." 

"  You'll  surely  hear  by  to-morrow." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  won't,  unless  you  can  intercede  for 
me.  It's  that  brother  of  hers  again.  In  the  perversity 


THE  BONDS  OF  MATRIMONY    299 

of  fate,  just  when  I  try  to  be  reconciled  to  my  wife 
the  second  time,  I  have  to  be  having  trouble  with 
Bruce  again,  and  this  is  worse  than  the  other,  for  to 
day,  by  order  of  the  directors  of  the  coal  company,  I 
had  him  arrested  for  embezzlement.  If  they  don't  let 
him  off,  he's  bound  to  go  to  the  penitentiary.  Now 
how  can  I  expect  Kate  to  forgive  that?" 

"  Possibly  she  knows  her  brother  by  this  time  better 
than  you  do.  Women's  eyes  are  keen." 

"  But  their  hearts  are  soft.  I  can't  hope  any  longer 
that  she'll  forgive  me." 

Just  then  a  messenger  boy  rang  the  rectory  bell, 
inquiring  for  Mr.  Hatton.  Hatton  seized  the  note 
and  turned  away  his  face  while  he  read.  When  Mr. 
Warne  came  back  from  the  door  after  dismissing  the 
messenger,  he  found  Hatton's  face  glorified. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  said  in  an  excited  tone.  "  I 
have  an  invitation  to  take  dinner  with  my  wife  to 
night.  I  feel  as  though  I  had  made  up  a  lovers' 
quarrel." 

His  face  grew  tender  in  a  moment  and  he  said  with 
some  embarrassment,  "  You — you  wouldn't  mind  say 
ing  a  prayer  for  us,  would  you?" 


THE  PROBATION 
OF  REV.  ARCHIBALD  HUDDERFIELD 


Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets 
And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood." 

— TENNYSON. 


XXI 

THE   PROBATION    OF  REV.   ARCHIBALD    HUDDER- 

FIELD 

AFTER  the  night  when  Sunderland  Red  entered 
the  Salvation  Army  barracks,  he  was  a 
changed  man.  Capt.  Smiler  had  sung  halle 
lujahs  and  rejoiced  over  him. 

''  You've  followed  the  devil  long  enough,  Hudder- 
field,  now  follow  the  Lord !  "  was  his  parting  admoni 
tion.  So  Sunderland  Red  proceeded  to  do  the  one 
with  the  same  vigour  with  which  he  had  done  the 
other. 

Having  once  started  along  the  lines  of  the  Salvation 
Army  service,  just  as  the  barracks  were  being  closed, 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  Sunderland  Red  was  not  a  very 
neat  fit  in  Rector  Warne's  church.  But  as  there  was 
no  other  Protestant  church  in  Coalton  he  united  with 
the  Episcopalians  as  a  matter  of  course.  Though  his 
heart  yearned  a  little  for  the  Salvation  Army  with 
its  shouts  and  hallelujahs,  he  managed  to  get  a  great 
deal  of  comfort  out  of  most  frequent  and  fervent 
amens  throughout  the  service.  When  he  came  to  un 
derstand  the  litany,  no  one  in  the  congregation  pro 
claimed  himself  a  "  miserable  sinner  "  with  more  sin 
cerity  than  he. 

Possibly  he  would  not  have  found  complete  spiritual 
303 


304  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

satisfaction  in  all  this,  however  fervently  expressed, 
if  it  had  not  been  that  his  religion  was  an  intensely 
practical  matter  and  in  no  sense  bounded  by  church 
law  or  ritual.  Without  knowing  that  any  authority 
was  required,  he  took  naturally  to  preaching.  The 
rector,  who  had  keen  eyes  for  those  who  could  help 
to  fight  the  good  fight,  soon  saw  that  Sunderland  Red 
was  doing  a  remarkable  work. 

When  Rector  Warne  spoke  about  Hudderfield's 
work  to  the  rector  of  the  Carbonville  church,  the  latter 
said: 

"  Why  doesn't  he  join  one  of  the  celibate  orders  ? 
He's  a  bachelor,  I  believe."  The  rector  of  Carbon 
ville  was  not  only  very  high  church,  but  entirely  lack 
ing  in  a  sense  of  humour  as  well. 

A  picture  of  the  rubicund  face  of  Hudderfield  pro 
jecting  from  a  cowl  or  shaded  by  a  shovel  hat  was 
almost  too  much  for  the  gravity  of  Rector  Warne.  He 
managed  to  control  himself,  however,  saying  only, 
"  I  don't  think  he  would  consent  to  that." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  make  a  lay  reader  of  him  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  ?  Why  he  can't  even  steer  a  straight 
course  through  the  Prayer  Book.  Half  the  time  he 
gets  lost  in  the  morning  service.  Pie  is  never  present 
at  the  evening  service,  for  he  has  a  service  of  his 
own  in  which  I  feel  sure  the  Prayer  Book  never  finds 
a  place." 

"  I  am  pained  to  hear  you  speak  so.  It  ought  never 
to  be  allowed." 

"  You  wouldn't  think  so,  if  you  could  hear  the 
man." 


PROBATION  OF  HUDDERFIELD  305 

It  was  when  the  bishop  called  a  council  of  the 
churches  of  the  diocese  to  consider  the  pressing  ques 
tion  concerning  the  religious  needs  of  the  foreigners 
who  were  pouring  into  the  state,  that  the  probation  of 
Sunderland  Red  occurred. 

Possibly  the  strangers  who  were  gathered  in  the 
church  in  Carbonville  might  have  stared  a  little  if  they 
had  been  told  that  there  was  anything  remarkable 
about  Sunderland  Red,  especially  if  he  had  been 
pointed  out  to  them  while  on  his  way  home  from  his 
work  with  his  face  black  with  coal  dirt. 

Even  after  the  grime  had  been  washed  off,  his 
countenance  was  not  attractive  to  a  stranger.  Each 
scar  on  his  face  was  the  record  of  an  accident,  some 
times  marking  a  trip  to  the  hospital  in  the  ambulance. 
There  was  a  long,  jagged  blue-black  line  on  the  left 
side  of  his  face  where  the  coal  dust  had  tattooed  him 
for  life.  That  told  of  his  most  serious  accident.  At 
the  same  time  that  this  happened,  his  leg  was  so  badly 
crushed  that  it  was  shortened  in  the  setting.  This 
catfsed  him  to  walk  with  the  jerk  of  a  mechanical 
toy.  One  finger  also  had  been  lost.  All  these  injuries 
were  the  result  of  a  fall  of  rock  from  the  roof  of 
the  chamber  where  he  worked  in  the  mines.  Across 
the  forehead  and  on  both  ears  the  skin  was  smooth 
and  shiny,  which  would  always  remind  him  of  the 
days  of  agony  spent  in  that  ward  of  the  hospital  which 
is  specially  heated  for  patients  suffering  from  burns. 

These  were  not  all  of  his  "  mercy  marks,"  as  he 
called  the  scars  and  nicks  he  had  received  about  the 
mines.  He  could  tell  yon  of  each  one  of  them, — not 


3o6  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

for  the  hardness  of  his  life,  but  for  the  constant  mercy 
that  had  overshadowed  him  and  enabled  him  to  come 
so  near  to  death  so  many  times  and  yet  be  spared. 

The  Rev.  Archibald  Hudderfield  was  a  genius,  and 
the  crowds  about  the  mines  had  found  it  out.  No 
body  knew  exactly  when  he  came  by  the  title  of  "  Rev 
erend,"  conferred  on  him  by  the  newspaper,  but  there 
was  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  his  congregation  that  he 
deserved  it.  A  man  who  preaches  well  for  the  pure 
love  of  the  work  is  not  likely  to  be  criticised  by  such 
an  audience  for  his  ignorance  of  Hebrew. 

His  audiences  were  various  and  so  were  his  pul 
pits.  Sometimes  he  had  but  two  or  three  hearers  who 
were  gathered  in  a  chamber  of  the  mines,  eating  from 
their  dinner  pails,  their  mine  lamps  flaring  in  their 
hats,  the  solemn  stillness  broken  every  now  and  then 
by  the  shouts  of  a  driver  boy  or  the  stumbling  of  a 
mule  dragging  a  car  along  some  nearby  gangway. 

Often  the  congregation  was  composed  of  those  who 
were  waiting  at  the  foot  of  the  shaft  for  a  cage  full 
of  men  to  gather  that  they  might  be  taken  to  the  sur 
face.  Many  a  man  had  let  his  turn  on  the  cage  pass 
that  he  might  hear  a  little  longer  about  the  love  of 
God,  for  that  was  the  theme  which  the  love  of  men 
in  the  heart  of  Archibald  Hudderfield  made  him 
preach  so  persistently  to  his  fellow  workmen. 

How  he  would  have  scorned  the  bishop's  appre 
ciation  of  the  unique  element  in  the  situation  of  this 
grimy  worker,  giving  his  message  a  thousand  feet 
under  ground !  To  him  the  message  was  the  impor- 
•tant  thing,  whether  given  in  the  mine,  or  as  he  often 


PROBATION  OF  HUDDERFIELD  307 

delivered  it,  on  Sunday  afternoons  standing  on  the 
steps  to  the  breaker,  with  the  great  black  building 
towering  gloomily  behind  him,  his  audience  perched 
on  mine  cars  or  seated  around  the  foot  of  the  great 
culm  dump  which  towered  more  forbiddingly  even  than 
the  breaker. 

But  these  were  not  his  only  audiences.  There  was 
his  regular  nightly  service  in  the  Mission  at  Mudtown. 
This  room  was  the  old  Salvation  Army  barracks  and 
the  work  was  presumably  under  the  direction  of  the 
rector's  church,  but  Sunderland  Red  did  all  the  preach 
ing,  paying  the  rent  for  the  building  from  his  own 
wages. 

Two  prominent  members  of  the  mission  were 
Lemuel  and  Theodosia  Hetherington,  otherwise 
Limpy  and  Teed.  They  represented  if  not  the  wealth 
at  least  the  piety  of  the  congregation,  and  certainly 
the  devotion  of  the  people  to  their  pastor.  Teed  was 
housekeeper,  while  Limpy  was  a  bread-winner  and 
toiled  as  driver  boy  in  the  mine. 

On  the  day  of  the  probation  of  the  Rev.  Archibald 
Hudderfield,  Limpy  and  Teed  were  overwhelmed  with 
sorrow.  The  Mudtown  Mission  was  going  to  lose  its 
pastor,  and  they  were  simply  heartbroken.  Mr.  Hud 
derfield  was  to  be  taken  out  of  the  mines  and  trans 
ferred  to  some  large  business  called  a  Parish  House, 
so  they  understood,  where  he  would  have  plenty  of 
money  and  hosts  of  friends  and  helpers.  There  could 
be  no  mistake  about  it;  Teed  had  heard  the  strange 
man  in  black  clothes  explain  the  whole  plan.  Mr, 
Hudderfield  was  to  speak  in  Grace  Church  that  very 


3o8  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

night,  so  the  folks  could  hear  him  and  judge  whether 
he  would  do  for  the  place  they  wanted  him  to  take. 

While  Limpy  ate  his  dinner,  Teed  told  the  story : 

"  He  come  into  the  Mission  Room  this  mornin' 
and  ast  me  where  was  Mr.  Hudderfield — " 

"A-r-r-r-h!  What  'd  'u  tell  him  f'r?"  interrupted 
Limpy,  savagely.  "  I'd  'a  told  him  he  was  out  o' 
town.  It  wouldn't  been  no  lie,  neither;  f'r  you  know 
the  Hatton  shaft  is  outside  the  town  limits." 

Teed  was  far  too  sad  to  quarrel  with  Limpy,  or  even 
to  reproach  him  for  this  proposed  evasion  of  the  truth. 
So  she  only  said,  slowly : 

"  Pretty  soon  there  was  another  dude  in  a  gray  busi 
ness  suit  come  in  jest  a  purpose  to  meet  the  black 
one,  an'  he  told  the  gray  one  all  about  it,  an'  says  thai 
they  couldn't  do  better'n  get  Hudderfield  as  superin- 
tender  of  the  Parish  House,  because  he  was  such  a 
hustler.  And  they  said  what  a  good  thing  it  would 
be  for  him,  an*  what  big  crowds  he'd  have;  an'  I  was 
so  proud  of  him.  But  oh,  Limpy,  what'll  become  o' 
us?" 

Teed  could  say  no  more,  but  bending  over  her 
brother's  chair,  she  hid  her  face  on  the  brown  patch 
on  Limpy 's  shoulder,  where  the  strap  which  carried 
his  tin  tea-bottle  had  worn  a  hole  through  his  faded 
blue  coat. 

"Don't  cry,  Teed,"  he  said,  gently.  "We  got 
along  all  right  wunst  before,  an'  we  c'n  do  it  again." 

:<  You  know  it  ain't  that."  she  sobbed.  "  You're 
away  so  much,  Limpy,  that  you  don't  know  how  much 
he  clone  f'r  us." 


PROBATION  OF  HUDDERFIELD  309 

'  Teed,  I  wisht  we  could  go  with  Archie,"  Limpy 
said. 

"  Well,  you  know  we  can't.  An'  you've  got  to  stop 
callin'  him  Archie  an'  begin  to  call  him  Mr.  Hudder- 
field,  now  that  he's  struck  such  luck." 

"But,  Teed,  why  couldn't  we  go  with  him?"  per 
sisted  the  boy.  "  You  know  he'll  ast  us  to  go." 

;'  Yes,  I  know  he'll  ast  us,  an'  more'n  that,  I  know 
he'll  want  us  to  go'.  But  you  know  we  can't,  with  us 
like  we  are — '  the  masses  '  is  what  the  gray  one  called 
the  people  in  the  Mission." 

"I'd  like  to  thump  his  mug!"  interrupted  Limpy, 
wrathfully. 

"  That  wouldn't  help.  It's  the  truth.  We  are  all 
right  here.  But  we  ain't  onto  the  talk  o'  the  up-an- 
up's,  an'  we  couldn't  ketch  their  style.  It's  no  use  to 
try.  We  ain't  blooded.  We  jest  got  to  stay  here. 
We'd  only  hinder  Mr.  Hudderfield  if  we  was  to  go. 
He's  got  the  stuff  in  him — the  Lord  put  it  into  him 
—an'  he's  got  to  go." 

"  That's  right ! "  said  Limpy,  catching  some  of 
Teed's  fervour.  Then  he  added  in  his  heartiest  prayer- 
meeting  manner :  "  Let's  give  him  a  great  send-off,  in 
the  name  o'  the  Lord ! — But  say,  Teed,  do  you  suppose 
he  really  wants  to  leave  the  Mission?  " 

That  night  the  solemn  assistant  to  the  rector  of 
Grace  Church  droned  painfully  through  the  service 
at  the  Mudtown  Mission  Rooms,  while  the  Rev. 
Archibald  Hudderfield  passed  through  his  probation 
before  the  council.  Limpy  listened  conscientiously  to 
the  assistant's  sermon  as  long  as  he  could  stand  it — - 


3io  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

long  enough  to  see  Teed,  worn  out  with  the  excitement 
and  sorrow  of  the  day,  sink  down  into  peaceful  slum.- 
ber.  Then  Limpy  slipped  quietly  out,  "  hopped  "  a 
coal  train,  rode  to  Carbonville,  and  then  hurried  to  the 
beautiful  Grace  Church  on  the  avenue.  The  delegates 
to  the  council  from  all  over  the  diocese  crowded  the 
great  building  to  the  doors.  There  were  several 
speakers  on  the  general  topic  of  city  missions,  and  Mr. 
Huddcrfield  was  to  be  the  last.  The  only  seat  which 
Limpy  could  get  was  behind  a  great  stone  pillar;  but 
when  Mr.  Hudderfield's  turn  came  to  speak,  he  rose 
and  leaned  against  it. 

Limpy 's  heart  swelled  with  pride  as  he  listened  to 
the  really  eloquent  beginning  of  Hudderfield's  speech. 
Then  it  came  over  him  in  a  moment  that  this  might  be 
the  very  last  time  he  should  ever  hear  the  missionary 
speak.  Of  course  Mr.  Hudderfield  would  go  away 
to  take  charge  of  his  new  business,  and  he  and  Teed 
had  decided  that  he  would  probably  have  to  start  at 
once.  The  boy's  eyes  filled  with  tears  at  the  thought, 
and  to  keep  them  back  he  set  his  jaws  and  drew  his 
breath  hard.  Then  a  strange  thing  happened  to  Mr. 
Hudderfield,  and  after  it  was  over  Limpy  hurried 
home  to  tell  Teed. 

As  Hudderfield  himself  went  home  after  the  meet 
ing  he  met  the  assistant  and  told  him  this  experience : 

"  I  began  my  speech  easily  enough.  I  wasn't  scared. 
I  even  made  a  little  joke  about  the  way  the  bishop  in 
troduced  me  as  '  reverend.'  I  began  to  feel  at  home 
with  the  audience  right  from  the  first.  I  knew  there 
were  some  millionaires  in  the  house,  and  I  wanted  to 


PROBATION  OF  HUDDERFIELD  311 

stand  well  with  them.  I  was  ambitious  to  make  a 
great  speech,  and  God  had  to  humble  me.  I  thought 
I  was  doing  first  rate,  when  all  of  a  sudden  I  caught 
sight  of  little  Limpy  Hetherington  in  the  back  of  the 
church.  How  he  got  in  I  don't  know,  for  he  doesn't 
take  to  churches  very  much;  but  there  he  was,  patches 
and  all.  I  saw  every  gaping  buttonhole  in  his  jacket. 
I  saw  him  only,  as  though  there  hadn't  been  another 
soul  in  the  house.  His  face  was  drawn.  He  seemed 
to  me  as  though  he  was  losing  faith  in  God  because 
he  had  lost  faith  in  me.  He  knew  I  was  trying  for 
all  I  was  worth  to  get  away  from  the  dear  old  Murl- 
town  Mission.  He  saw  through  my  meanness  in 
thinking  that  I  had  outgrown  that  poor  little  hall.  He 
knew  I  was  making  a  strike  in  that  speech  for  a  bigger 
place,  and  it  was  breaking  his  heart  to  think  that  I 
wanted  to  leave  them.  I  tried  to  look  away  and  forget 
all  about  the  mission;  instead,  I  forgot  what  I  wanted 
to  say.  I  tried  to  find  my  place  in  the  notes  I  had 
made,  but  1  might  as  well  have  looked  at  white  paper. 
The  words  had  no  meaning  to  me.  My  mind  was  a 
total  blank.  I  couldn't  have  told  where  I  was  nor  who 
I  was.  The  sun  went  out  of  the  sky.  The  horizon 
fell  in  on  me.  How  long  it  lasted  I  have  no  means 
of  knowing.  It  seemed  ages.  It  must  have  been  a 
good  while  for  when  I  struggled  back  to  conscious 
ness  the  bishop  was  at  my  elbow  trying  to  persuade  me 
to  go  into  the  vestry  room,  and  somebody  was  bring 
ing  me  a  glass  of  water.  But  I  didn't  have  time  to 
notice  these  things,  for  the  first  distinct  impression 
that  made  itself  felt  on  my  mind  was  a  clear  call  as 


3i2  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

if  some  one  had  told  me  to  plead  for  the  Mudtown 
Mission.  So  I  got  rid  of  the  bishop  somehow,  and, 
stepping  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  I  began  a  new 
speech — one  I  had  never  thought  of  before." 

In  the  meantime,  Limpy  was  pouring  into  Teed's 
wondering  ears  the  same  strange  tale. 

"  I  thought  he  was  goin'  to  faint,"  he  said.  "  An' 
his  speech  was  done  f'r,  sure.  But  pretty  soon  he 
chased  'em  all  away  from  him  an'  come  to  the  edge 
of  the  stage  all  right  enough  an'  jest  ripped  the  roof 
off  the  house.  '  The  poor  has  the  gospel  preached 
amongst  'em'  an'  '  The  Lord  God  has  ernointed  me 
to  declaim  the  good  tidings,'  he  says.  An'  then  he 
told  'em  the  things  he'd  seen  in  the  Mudtown  Mission 
an'  what  he'd  like  to  do — when  he  gets  into  this  new 
job  he's  goin'  to  take,  I  suppose.  Oh,  Teed,  I'm 
ashamed  I  didn't  wake  you  up  an'  take  you  along. 
You  never  heard  the  like.  You'd  'a'  thought  these 
people  where  he's  goin'  was  his  blood  brothers.  He 
had  the  house  laughin'  an'  cryin'  an'  cheerin' — the  hull 
thing  at  wunst.  But  he  went  right  on  with  the  rat 
killin' — never  stopped.  An'  before  he  was  rightly  done, 
the  high  muck  who  bossed  the  crowd  started  to  say 
somethin'  about  this  entoosium  takin'  some  practical 
form,  an'  then  some  cully  they  called  judge  got  up 
an'  said  he'd  go  a  thousand  on  this  work,  an'  another 
fellow  in  a  gray  business  suit — it  must  'a'  been  the 
same  one  that  was  down  here — he  covered  his  thou 
sand  right  quick,  an'  in  a  little  while  there  was  quite 
a  pile  o'  money  bet  on  it. 

"All  this   time  you  could   tell   that   Mr.    Hudder- 


PROBATION  OF  HUDDERFIELD  313 

field  kept  feelin'  worse  an'  worse,  though  he  tried  to 
laugh  it  off.  I  know  now,  Teed,  he  don't  want  to 
leave  the  mission  here;  you  couldn't  help  but  see  how 
bad  he  felt  about  it  from  his  face.  I  wisht  you'd  been 
there,  so's  you  could  see  f'r  yourself.  But  he  kept 
pretty  good  holt  on  himself  till  they  ast  him  to  pray, 
an'  then  he  lost  control  o'  his  machinery  altogether. 
An'  when  a  good  many  o'  them  had  cried  while  he 
was  tryin'  to  pray,  the  bishop — I  think  they  called 
the  high  muck  bishop — he  said  they'd  sing  the  '  Sock- 
doliger,'  an'  I  come  away.  I  couldn't  stand  it  no 
longer.  But  I  don't  feel  as  bad  as  I  did,  Teed, 
because  I  know  he  don't  want  to  leave  us.  They're 
forcin'  him  into  it,  somehow." 

The  children  were  still  comforting  each  other,  when 
Mr.  Hudderfield  came  in.  He  looked  wan  and  tired, 
but  not  at  all  downcast,  as  Teed  had  expected  from 
Limpy's  description. 

"  I've  saved  your  supper  for  you,  Mr.  Hudderfield," 
Teed  began,  steadily.  "  I  cooked  the  things  you  like." 
Then  she  ran  to  him  crying:  "Oh,  Archie!  Limpy 
told  me  all  about  it.  It's  grand,  an'  I'm  so  glad  an' 
happy  that  you're  goin' ! — that  is,  I'm  glad  for  your 
sake  now,  an'  I'll  be  happy  to-morrow  because  I  love 
you  so !  " 

Then,  probably  to  show  how  very  glad  she  was,  she 
began  sobbing  most  pitifully  at  the  thought  of  facing 
life  without  the  missionary. 

"Why,  Teed!  Didn't  Limpy  tell  you?  I'm  not 
going.  Instead,  on  the  first  of  January  I'm  to  leave 
the  mines  and  spend  all  my  time  working  for  the  Mis- 


3H  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND   MEN 

sion.  The  folks  at  the  meeting  to-night  promised  to 
give  me  money  enough  that  I  won't  have  to  go 
into  the  mines  to  pay  the  expenses  of  the  Mission. 
We're  to  have  everything  we  ever  wanted  or  dreamed 
about.  A  miners'  exchange,  where  the  men  can  get 
their  money  changed  away  from  the  saloons,  a  gym 
nasium,  school  rooms — everything,  Teed!  There  was 
enough  money  for  everything  I've  wanted — and  all 
for  this  dear  old  Mudtown  Mission.  But  I've  learned 
to-night  the  poorness  and  meanness  and  weakness  and 
(selfishness,  and  a  great  many  other  ugly  things,  of 
my  own  heart.  If  my  dear  child  friends,  Limpy  and 
Teed,  could  know  it  all,  I'm  not  sure  they  would  be 
glad  to  have  me  stay.  Would  you?" 

The  two  faces,  full  of  unfailing  trust  and  love, 
looked  up  into  his,  while  Teed  stroked  his  hand  and 
Limpy  said,  with  an  approving  nod  of  his  head : 

"Betcherlife!" 


THE  STRIKE 
OF  THE  'MALGAMATED  TERRORS 


"  Used  to  think  that  luck  was  luck  and  nuthin'  else  but 

luck 
It  made  no  difference  hoiv  or  ivhen  or  where  or  wliy  it 

struck; 
But  several  years  ago  I  clianged  my  mind  an'  now 

proclaim 
That  luck's  a  kind   of  science — same  as   any   oilier 

game." 

— EUGENE  FIELD. 


XXII 

THE  STRIKE  OF  THE  ' MALGAMATED  TERRORS 

PIPPINELLA  JINDY  was  in  the  last  agony. 
Not  the  agony  of  death,  for  the  contortions 
she  made  in  trying  to  walk  through  the  snow 
without  lifting  her  foot  showed  that  she  was  pos 
sessed  of  abundant  vitality.  She  was  in  the  agony 
of  losing  the  button. 

Now  the  loss  of  a  single  shoe-button  is  not  or 
dinarily  an  affair  of  serious  moment — if  there  are 
other  buttons.  But  if  the  button  about  to  be  lost  is 
the  last  fastening  left,  its  loss  rises  from  the  agony 
of  a  crisis  to  the  dignity  of  a  calamity.  But  every 
crisis  is  brief,  and  before  she  had  taken  another  step 
the  calamity  occurred. 

Then  there  were  further  complications :  The  loss  of 
the  shoe  revealed  the  absence  of  a  stocking  and  there 
was  Pippinella's  pudgy,  olive-brown  foot  and  round 
leg  sunk  into  the  snow,  half  way  to  the  bare  knee. 

But  youth  is  very  hopeful,  especially  before  the 
age  of  twelve  years.  So  Pippinella  tucked  beneath 
her  arm  the  disabled  shoe,  which  had  evidently  be 
longed  to  some  grand  dame  when  it  had  had  all  its 
buttons,  and  pushed  hopefully  forward  toward  the 
deeper  snow  of  the  gutter. 

Pippinella's  hopes  were  all  centered  in  an  apple  bar- 
Si? 


318  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

rel.  Mrs.  Phelan  had  just  purchased  thirty  cents 
worth  of  apples  and  all  the  children  of  the  Phelan 
brood  and  their  cousins  the  Flynns,  and  in  fact  all  the 
children  of  the  neighbourhood  of  the  same  blood,  had 
been  furnished  with  a  sample  of  the  fruit. 

Pippinella  knew  that  she  had  nothing  to  expect  from 
the  Phelan  apples,  but  it  might  be  that  the  farmer 
would  give  her  one  specked  apple  if  she  should  ask 
him.  Perhaps  he  might  have  done  so,  if  young  Mick 
Phelan  had  not  thrown  a  snowball  at  Pippinella  which 
frightened  the  farmer's  horses.  In  the  diversion,  Pip- 
pinella's  hopes  perished.  The  snow  seemed  suddenly 
colder  to  the  bare  foot;  sunny  Italy  far  away. 

"  Git  out,  yez  thavin'  dago,"  growled  Mick  Phelan, 
in  lordly  imitation  of  his  father's  tone.  "  Is  it  apples 
yer  thryin'  to  steal  ?  Yer  father's  a  scab.  What  busi 
ness  have  yez  here  annyhow  ?  Yer  father's  nothin'  but 
a  dirty  scab,  takin'  the  bread  out  of  dacent  people's 
mouths.  If  it  wasn't  for  him  and  thim  that's  like 
him,  we  could  win  the  strike." 

Pippinella  grasped  the  pointed  toe  of  the  shoe  she 
had  shed  and  backed  her  way  into  the  street.  She 
was  far  too  wise  in  the  ways  of  the  world  of  Reagan's 
Patch  to  turn  her  face  from  a  foe.  Furthermore,  she 
knew  that  the  shoe,  with  its  soggy  heel,  made  a  formid 
able  weapon.  She  had  need  to  know  how  to  defend 
herself,  for  the  men  of  the  Mudlnck  mine  were  oti 
strike  and  her  father  and  the  rest  of  the  Italians  would 
not  join  the  strike.  That  gave  frequent  opportunity 
for  war  between  the  \vnmen  and  even  the  children  in 
the  Patch. 


STRIKE  o/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  319 

No  doubt  she  would  have  used  her  weapon  and  a 
onesided  race  war  would  have  been  waged,  if  another 
diversion  had  not  occurred.  Mrs.  Burt  Hatton's  vic 
toria,  which  had  been  waiting  for  a  freight  train  to 
pass,  now  dashed  up  the  main  street  of  Reagan's 
Patch. 

Mrs.  Hatton  recognised  Pippinella  as  the  large- 
eyed  child  who  had  come  morning  after  morning  dur 
ing  the  summer  to  play  on  the  carriage  block  in  front 
of  the  Hatton  homestead.  From  some  Italian  ances 
tor  the  child  had  inherited  a  passionate  love  for  beauty, 
which  impelled  her  irresistibly  towards  the  Hatton 
home. 

In  all  the  dreary  length  of  Reagan's  Patch  there 
was  not  a  single  grass-grown  yard.  The  few  weeds 
that  struggled  in  the  corners  of  the  ruined  picket 
fences  were  cropped  by  goats,  while  the  mountains  in 
the  rear  were  bare  of  trees  and  scarred  by  land  slide;;. 

All  about  the  Hatton  home  the  ground  was  terraced 
and  covered  with  the  greenest  grass.  In  the  centre  a 
fountain  played.  What  was  almost  as  delightful  to 
the  children  as  the  fountain  was  the  automatic  sprink 
ler.  Many  an  hour  the  children  of  the  Patch  who 
were  less  esthetic  in  their  taste  than  Pippinella,  had 
spent  holding  on  to  the  sanded  pickets  of  the  Hatton 
fence  to  let  the  water  from  the  sprinkler  splash  over 
their  bare  ankles. 

None  of  the  other  children  enjoyed  the  lawn  more 
than  Pippinella  and  her  younger  brother.  They  would 
sometimes  spend  the  whole  morning  on  the  step,  Pip 
pinella  with  all  the  graces  of  a  grand  dame  in  her 


320  THOSE  BLACK  DTAMOND  MEN 

carriage  and  Domenico,  who  was  less  imaginative,  sit 
ting  straight  and  stiff,  by  her  direction  as  a  well- 
trained  coachman  should.  Here  they  would  play  also 
at  keeping  house,  dragging  to  the  step  various  tin  cans 
and  other  household  utensils  that  had  been  cast  off 
in  Reagan's  Patch.  If  Mrs.  Hatton's  coachman  hap 
pened  to  find  them  when  he  had  the  hose  out,  there  was 
apt  to  be  a  sudden  end  to  their  play  before  the  real 
mistress  and  her  friends  appeared  to  take  their  drive. 
Sometimes  he  flung  the  tin  cans  after  the  children. 

Mrs.  Hatton  had  recognised  Pippinella  in  the  snow 
and  had  felt  her  bitter  disappointment  over  her  fail 
ure  to  get  even  a  specked  apple  from  the  farmer, 
through  Mick  Phelan's  interference. 

Her  first  impulse  had  been  to  interview  the  farmer 
and  supply  Pippinella  with  apples.  But  the  coal  train 
that  was  holding  her  carriage  in  Reagan's  Patch 
proved  to  be  a  long  one  and  before  it  passed  she  saw 
the  threatened  conflict.  Her  heart  hardened  and  she 
ordered  the  driver  to  hurry  through  the  Patch. 

Neither  Mick  Phelan  nor  Pippinella  had  seen  the 
carriage.  Mick  and  his  forces  seemed  just  about  to 
charge.  Pippinella,  having  no  reinforcements,  backed 
swiftly  across  the  street  into  the  very  track  of  the  ap 
proaching  carriage.  The  horses  swerved  sharply  and 
stopped,  but  it  seemed  that  the  child  must  surely  be 
stricken  down.  The  driver  in  an  undertone  made  some 
remarks  to  Pippinella  relative  to  the  whole  Italian 
race,  advising  her  that  they  had  no  business  to  be  in 
America. 

When  the  lady  uncovered  her  eyes,  Pippinella  was 


STRIKE  <?/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  321 

running  to  the  shelter  of  a  tenement  further  up  the 
street,  while  a  squalid  Italian  woman  was  giving  her 
voluble  directions,  alternating  with  dire  threats  hurled 
at  Mick  Phelan's  crew.  Pippinella,  whimpering, 
dodged  a  heavy-handed  maternal  caress,  the  buttonless 
shoe  clattered  down  on  the  door  sill  and  the  door  closed 
on  her  hopes  and  fears. 

Mrs.  Hatton  told  the  whole  story  to  her  husband 
at  dinner  that  evening,  shuddering  a  little  when  she 
came  to  speak  of  the  child's  narrow  escape. 

"  See  here,  Kate,"  he  said,  when  she  had  finished, 
"  There's  no  use  of  your  worrying  over  the  condition 
of  these  people,  either  physical  or  moral.  They're 
foreigners,  and  that's  all  you  can  make  of  them  just 
now.  After  a  while,  perhaps,  they'll  become  civilised. 
Now  they're  outlanders  and  I  wish  they  weren't  here. 
But  they  work  pretty  cheaply  and  they  work  when 
other  men  strike.  If  they  get  hurt,  in  spite  of  all  we 
can  do  to  take  care  of  them,  that's  their  lookout.  But 
they  don't  mind  cold  and  curses  as  we  would.  And 
even  if  they  did,  there's  nothing  you  can  do  to  better 
their  condition.  If  you  give  them  things,  you'll  make 
paupers  of  them.  If  they  have  to  earn  their  way,  it 
goes  slower  and  they  won't  have  patent-leather  shoes 
and  banana  ice  cream  for  a  while;  but  they'll  appre 
ciate  these  things  more  when  they  do  get  them." 

"  I  know  what  you  say  is  true,  Burt;  but  wouldn't 
it  be  possible  for  me  to  go  among  them  and  teach 
them — help  them  somehow,"  she  added  rather 
vaguely. 

"  Yes  and  bring  home  the  diphtheria,  or  the  itch,  or 


322  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND   MEN 

something.  Now  just  don't  worry  over  something 
that  you  can't  help.  I'll  have  to  tell  the  man  not 
to  drive  through  the  Patch  again." 

"  Poor  girl !  "  he  said  to  himself  after  she  had  left 
the  room.  "  Since  our  baby  died  she  can't  see  any 
child  without  wanting  to  right  all  its  wrongs.  I  won 
der  why  our  baby  must  die,  while  the  Italian  babies 
live?" 

That  night  Mrs.  Hatton  could  not  sleep.  She  was 
haunted  not  only  by  a  nightmare  of  rubber-tired 
wheels  crunching  down  a  childish  figure  Hying 
through  the  snow,  but  by  the  still  more  grim  uncer 
tainty  concerning  what  happened  behind  the  tenement 
door,  which  had  closed  as  her  carriage  whirled  past. 
Had  she  heard  cries  of  fear,  or  pain?  Toward  mid 
night  she  reached  a  conclusion  and  then  she  fell  asleep. 

From  this  doze  she  was  wakened  with  the  feeling 
that  the  sun  was  shining  into  her  face.  She  started 
up  wildly  to  find  the  room  flooded  with  a  dull  red 
light  flashing  into  her  heavy  eyes.  The  breaker  was 
on  fire!  Fascinated  by  the  sight,  she  sprang  from  her 
bed  and  pressed  her  face  to  the  window.  Her  husband 
had  already  rushed  out  to  do  what  he  could  to  save  the 
Company's  property. 

High  above  the  shadow  of  the  mountain-tops  the 
flames  leaped.  The  upward  current  of  air,  rushing 
through  the  chutes  and  staircases  for  two  hundred 
feet,  carried  the  flames  far  above  the  head-house  on 
the  top  of  the  breaker.  The  smoke  rolled  forth  in 
clouds,  spreading  out  above  like  an  open  fan  and 
lighted  from  below  to  a  bloody  red.  The  upper  por- 


STRIKE  <?/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  323 

tion  of  the  huge  building  had  not  yet  caught  fire,  but 
while  she  looked,  almost  in  a  moment,  she  saw  the 
fire  leap  from  story  to  story,  the  thick  coal  dust  on 
the  boards  burning  like  gunpowder,  while  the  flames 
ate  their  way  into  the  solid  timbers  and  enveloped  the 
whole  building  in  a  moment.  Explosions  from  within 
soon  burst  the  burning  boards  from  the  sides  of  the 
giant  shell,  scattering  long  pieces  of  flaming  timber 
high  into  the  air  to  tumble  hissing  into  the  snow.  The 
outer  casing  being  gone,  the  heavy  framework  criss 
crossed  against  the  sky,  a  lurid  skeleton,  fiercely  held 
its  own. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  burning  of  the  coal 
breaker  brought  better  times  to  the  men  on  strike. 
The  company  made  immediate  plans  for  rebuilding, 
and  this  gave  work  to  many  of  the  men.  Those  who 
would  never  have  dared  to  enter  the  mine  during  the 
strike  under  pain  of  being  called  "  scab "  workers, 
found  employment  as  helpers  to  the  carpenters  and 
masons.  Still  there  was  much  suffering  during  the 
winter,  especially  among  the  unskilled  Italian  labourers 
and  those  who  had  worked  for  the  company  during 
the  strike.  These  "  scab  "  labourers  were  driven  out 
by  the  men  who  had  obtained  work  in  rebuilding  the 
breaker,  either  openly  or  by  a  series  of  petty  persecu 
tions  which  made  life  unbearable. 

Among  the  families  of  these  victims  of  the  strike 
Mrs.  Hatton  went,  almost  as  busy  in  her  way  as  her 
husband  with  his  breaker  building.  There  were  medi 
cines  to  be  bought;  food  furnished  to  the  delicate  and 
the  sick,  and  clothing  to  be  provided  for  the  children. 


324  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

All  the  plans  which  she  had  cherished  for  a  settle 
ment  house  had  to  be  laid  aside  until  the  more  press 
ing  needs  of  the  sick  and  the  hungry  were  supplied. 

The  Jindy  home  was  among  the  last  discovered 
to  be  in  need.  One  day  in  February  Mrs.  Hatton 
called.  Except  for  the  remains  of  what  had  once  been 
an  enormous  loaf  of  bread  and  a  dish  containing-  a 
mixture  of  tomatoes,  peppers  and  beans,  the  house 
was  bare  of  food.  Pippinella's  father  sat  in  the  inner 
room.  Through  Pippinella  as  interpreter  Mrs.  Hat- 
ton  learned  that  he  was  "  sick  in  the  back  "  from  an 
injury  received  in  the  mines  several  months  before,  so 
that  he  could  not  do  hard  work. 

Mrs.  Jindy  poured  out  a  volume  of  Italian,  which 
Pippinella  tersely  translated  into  an  appeal  for  work. 

"  She  say,  '  When  the  breaker  start  run,  she  send 
my  li'l  brother.  Breaker  boss  he  no  let-a  him  work. 
He  too  young-a.  You  give  him  li'l  piece  pape?  ' 

It  seemed  useless  for  Mrs.  Hatton  to  protest  that 
until  eight-year-old  Domenico  should  reach  the  law 
ful  age,  no  recommendation  of  hers  could  secure  the 
coveted  seat  on  the  benches  of  the  coal  breaker.  Even 
when  she  left,  the  father  repeated  the  request  for  the 
"  Li'l  piece  pape." 

It  was  toward  the  last  of  March,  a  year  after  the 
fire,  that  the  new  breaker  was  finished  and  ready  for 
work.  The  strike  had  slowly  worn  out  the  endurance 
of  the  men  during  the  long  winter,  and  now  that  work 
was  offered  again,  most  of  the  men  were  ready  to  take 
their  old  places.  But  if  the  men  had  been  starved  into 
submission  the  boys  had  not,  and  they  were  only  wait- 


STRIKE  o/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  325 

ing  for  an  opportunity  to  show  their  power.  The  op 
portunity  came  during  the  first  day's  work  in  the  new 
breaker.  It  was  Jim  Owens  who  called  Mick  Phelan's 
attention  to  it  as  soon  as  work  was  over  for  the  day. 

"  Say,  Mick,  have  y'  seen  the  new  slate  picker?  " 

"  Aw,  there's  no  new  boy  come  to  the  works.  Don't 
I  stand  where  I  c'n  see  the  office?  There's  been  no 
body  there  to-day  but  a  dago  woman  and  a  gur-rl." 

"  Sure,  that's  jist  what  I'm  tellin'  y'.  She  got  the 
job  near  me  that  young  '  Spike '  Dolan  used  to  hold." 

"  What's  his  name?" 

"  Haven't  I  told  y' !     It  ain't  a  he,  it's  a  she." 

"It's  wha-a-t?"  Mick  Phelan's  jaw  fell  in  sheer 
amazement.  Mick  was  the  bully  of  the  breaker,  but 
the  new  girl  could  have  vanquished  him,  if  she  had 
been  present  to  take  advantage  of  his  collapsed  condi 
tion.  "A  gur-rl,  is  it?  A  gur-rl — and  a  dago  at 
that !  The  howly  saints !  Aw,  it's  a  lie  y're  tellin'  me, 
Jim  Owens." 

"  It's  no  lie.  Bat  McCarty  told  me  he  was  forninst 
the  office  door  when  the  woman  and  the  gur-rl  come 
in.  She's  to  take  Dolan's  job  in  the  mornin'.  I've 
heard  me  father  say  that  there  was  places  in  the  old 
country  where  the  gur-rls  worked  around  the  mines 
the  same  as  the  boys " 

"  Let  sich  foreigners  as  thim  wor-rk  as  they  likes 
in  their  own  country  and  let  them  stay  there.  But  if 
they  comes  to  Ameriky,  they  must  do  as  we  does.  It 
ain't  dacent  to  be  sendin'  a  gur-rl  into  the  breaker,  an' 
I  won't  have  it.  We'll  hold  a  meetin'  after  supper, 
Sound  a  call  as  y'  go  down  the  lane." 


326  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Mick  Phelan's  word  was  law,  for  was  he  not  the 
king  of  the  slate  pickers  and  chief  of  the  'Malgamated 
Terrors?  But  like  some  other  leaders  he  chose  to  seem 
to  defer  to  the  will  of  his  gang  of  Terrors  from  the 
Mudluck  breaker.  Monte  di  Luce,  Mrs.  Hatton  had 
named  the  breaker,  but  the  boys  had  soon  shortened 
the  name  into  Mudluck.  That  portion  of  the  village 
which  clustered  in  the  shadow  of  the  towering  piles 
of  coal-waste  was  not  inappropriately  called  Mud- 
town.  Nobody  could  find  fault  with  that. 

Taken  one  by  one  and  away  from  the  Mudluck 
breaker  the  Terrors  were  not  half  so  bad  as  they 
wished  to  appear.  But  when  they  had  congregated, 
unwashed,  in  the  lee  of  the  culm  dump,  each  urchin 
with  a  reputation  for  noise  and  mischief  to  sustain, 
it  was  apt  to  go  rather  hard  with  any  unsuspecting 
stranger  who  might  chance  to  pass. 

The  Amalgamated  Terrors  owed  their  organization 
to  a  former  strike  which  had  involved  all  the  rail 
roads  of  the  region.  While  their  fathers  were  organ 
ising  a  strike  in  sympathy  with  the  railroad  men,  the 
boys,  being  thrown  out  of  work,  organized  out  of 
sympathy  too.  Their  first  effort  in  the  line  of  sym 
pathy  was  to  stone  the  trains  manned  by  non-union 
men  who  had  been  taken  on  to  fill  the  places  of  the 
union  strikers. 

When  the  police  tried  to  arrest  them,  the  boys 
disappeared  from  the  bank  of  one  cut  only  to  as 
semble  again  a  few  minutes  later  in  another  place. 
When  a  few  were  caught,  the  officers  could  not  prove 
that  they  had  had  anything  worse  than  snowballs  in 


STRIKE  <?/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  327 

their  hands.  But  if  they  had  examined  the  grimy 
snowballs,  they  might  have  discovered  a  jagged  lump 
of  slate  imbedded  in  every  ball. 

After  the  strike  was  over  the  club  was  continued 
for  its  social  features.  These  attractions  consisted  in 
various  feats  of  skill  or  strength,  as  well  as  the  break 
ing  in  of  new  hands  at  smoking  or  chewing.  The 
meeting  place  of  the  club  was  a  sort  of  amphitheatre, 
formed  by  the  junction  of  three  culm  heaps,  two  of 
which  were  nearly  parallel,  while  the  third  lay  at  right 
angles  across  the  ends  of  the  other  two.  This  valley 
was  entirely  secluded  and  could  not  be  entered  con 
veniently  except  from  the  place  where  the  two  nearly 
parallel  heaps  joined.  Down  this  steep  path  the  boys 
had  placed  a  board.  When  a  new  boy  began  to  work 
in  the  breaker,  the  plank  was  used  to  initiate  him  into 
membership  in  the  Amalgamated  Terrors.  It  might 
be  mentioned  that  the  plank  had  become  quite  smooth. 

The  natural  advantages  of  such  a  meeting  place 
were  still  further  increased  by  the  fact  that  the  shanty 
in  which  the  night  watchman  had  had  his  winter 
quarters,  which  had  stood  at  the  top  of  one  of  the 
heaps  of  coal  dirt,  happened  to  fall  into  the  amphi 
theatre. 

Perhaps  Jim  Owens  could  have  told  how  the 
accident  occurred.  At  any  rate  the  building  was  not 
valuable  enough  to  make  it  worth  while  for  the  com 
pany  to  incur  the  expense  of  hoisting  it  into  place 
again,  and  so  the  boys  used  it  for  a  club  house.  Some 
of  them  could  get  on  the  inside  when  the  whole  cl'.tb 
attended  a  meeting,  and  the  rest  swarmed  over  the 


328  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

roof  and  about  the  door.  The  walls  inside  were  cov 
ered  with  garish  play  bills.  The  property  of  the  club 
consisted  of  a  heavy  box  with  a  lock,  in  which  to  keep 
Indian  clubs,  boxing  gloves,  and  all  that  sort  of  neces 
sary  furniture. 

The  club  confined  its  attention  to  such  diver 
sions  as  these.  Once  it  had  attempted  a  debate: 
"  Resolved  that  the  Pannymow  is  a  betther  canawl  than 
the  Nigger-ague;  "  but  the  debate  had  ended  in  a 
fight  between  the  members  which  threatened  to  dis 
rupt  the  organization.  So  all  such  dangerous  features 
were  tabooed. 

Mick  and  Jim  were  the  two  oldest  boys  in  the 
breaker  and  they  were  both  officers  in  the  Amalga 
mated  Terrors.  In  response  to  the  whistled  call  for 
the  meeting,  the  members  of  the  association  were 
straying  back  toward  their  club  house.  Most  of  them 
had  washed  before  eating  their  suppers,  but  even  those 
whose  countenances  had  lost  the  inky  coat  of  grime 
from  the  rest  of  the  face  still  bore  black  rings  around 
the  eyes,  which  many  washings  would  not  remove. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  coal  breaker  is  particularly 
unhealthy.  The  faces  of  many  of  the  boys  show 
gaunt  and  hollow  cheeks,  even  under  the  mask  of  dust. 
The  lungs  become  so  clogged  with  the  sharp ,  glass- 
like  fragments  of  coal  dust  that  the  particular  form 
of  consumption  known  as  miner's  asthma  or  anthra- 
chosis  often  claims  its  victims  before  they  have  reached 
manhood. 

The  moral  atmosphere  is  not  less  dangerous  than 
the  physical,  Breaker  bosses  are  often  notoriously 


1HE    OFFICERS    OF    THE      MALGAMATED    TERRORS 


STRIKE  <?/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  329 

brutal.  The  strongest  will,  backed  by  the  strongest 
arm,  rules.  The  place  reeks  with  profanity  as  well 
as  with  dust.  Innocence  perishes.  For  what  reason 
then  are  these  growing  boys  subjected  to  so  much 
hardship  and  so  great  moral  risk?  For  sixty  cents  a 
day.  In  the  coal  regions  men  are  plenty  and  cheap ; 
the  supply,  both  foreign  and  domestic,  but  especially 
foreign,  far  exceeds  the  demand.  But  boys  are  at  a 
premium. 

Of  course  it  isn't  just  right,  as  the  boy's  mother 
would  admit  to  herself,  and  of  course  the  law  forbids 
his  working  in  the  breaker  before  he  is  twelve;  but 
when  his  father  is  brought  home  dead,  (or,  at  least, 
part  of  him  is) ;  and  when  the  other  children  are 
nothing  but  girls;  and  when  his  mother's  speak-easy, 
(and  who  could  find  fault  with  a  poor  widdy  woman 
with  a  lot  of  girls  selling  a  drop  or  two?) — but  when 
the  speak-easy  is  not  a  profitable  enterprise,  from  hav 
ing  to  do  a  credit  business,  or  from  too  great  friendli 
ness  on  the  part  of  the  neighbours,  or  from  too  much 
home  consumption;  and  when  the  boy  doesn't  want  to 
go  to  school,  and  does  want  to  go  to  work  in  the 
breaker, —  (the  darling  boy!) — and  when  his  mother 
goes  to  the  breaker  boss  and  swears  that  he  is  over 
twelve  but  small  for  his  age, — why,  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
Breaker  bosses  are  not  employed  as  detectives,  and 
boys  are  not  horses  whose  age  can  be  told  by  their 
teeth.  So  into  the  breaker  he  goes. 

Or  perhaps  his  father,  weakened  by  the  same  kind 
of  burdens  borne  in  his  youth,  may  now  be  prema 
turely  disabled;  then  the  boy  must  become  the  frail 


330  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

support  of  the  family.  He  may  be  so  small  that  his 
dinner  pail  drags  on  the  snow  as  he  trudges  to  his 
work.  Or  it  may  be  that  the  father  is  put  on  "  half 
shift,"  because  he  works  for  himself,  while  the  buy 
must  work  over  time,  because  he  works  for  the  com 
pany.  More  likely  still,  the  father  spends  so  much  of 
his  earnings  at  the  saloon  that  the  boy  must  support 
his  mother  and  the  younger  children.  In  any  such 
case,  into  the  breaker  he  must  go. 

Of  course  the  work  in  the  breaker  precludes  all 
opportunity  for  attending  school.  While  provision 
is  made  by  law  for  night  schools,  and  while  such 
schools  are  established  in  some  communities,  it  is 
seldom  that  much  real  good  is  accomplished  by  them. 
As  a  final  consequence,  the  children  of  the  foreigners 
who  have  overrun  the  valleys  in  the  mining  regions 
are  to  a  startling  degree  ignorant  of  even  the  rudi 
ments  of  learning.  While  their  fathers  are  usually 
able  to  read  their  native  language,  the  sons  of  these 
strangers  are  often  utterly  illiterate. 

Mick  and  Jim  took  their  way  to  the  top  of  the  culm 
heap  which  lay  next  the  village  of  Mudtown  and 
paused  a  moment,  before  descending  to  the  meeting 
place  of  the  Terrors,  to  give  the  final  signal  by  which 
a  meeting  of  the  club  was  called,  three  short  blasts  fol 
lowed  by  one  long  one  blown  upon  Mick's  grimy 
fingers. 

Most  of  the  members  of  the  'Malgamated  Terrors 
had  come  up  by  this  time.  Many  smoked  and  all  of 
them  swaggered,  each  one  copying  some  trick  of  man 
ner  or  speech  admired  in  his  father  or  some  stage 


STRIKE  o/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  331 

hero.  Mick  Phelan  was  beginning  to  take  more  in 
terest  in  pugilists  than  in  mere  actors.  Mick  had  be 
gun  to  outgrow  the  small  suburban  ambition  of  being 
"  the  toughest  kid  in  Reagan's  Patch,"  and  was  be 
ginning  to  send  out  challenges  for  pugilistic  encounters 
with  the  "  breaker  bullies  "  or  the  "  feather-weight  " 
champions  of  other  communities. 

As  for  the  sending  of  these  documents,  that  was 
really  managed  by  the  faithful  satellite  Jim  Owens, 
who  signed  as  well  as  wrote  them.  Mick  could  not 
have  signed  his  name  to  anything,  for  he  did  not  know 
how  to  write,  his  entire  education  consisting  of  the 
first  three  lessons  in  the  primer,  which  had  been 
thumped  into  him  by  various  teachers  during  the  in 
tervals  of  playing  hookey  which  had  occupied  the  two 
years  when  the  state  had  his  name  upon  its  school- 
roll. 

Among  the  last  to  arrive  was  an  under-sized,  un 
washed  imp  known  as  Bat  McCarty,  the  clown  of  the 
breaker  and  hence  a  privileged  person.  Looking  about 
the  ring  of  assembled  Terrors,  he  asked  in  a  high- 
pitched  voice,  "  Who'll  lind  me  a  match?  " 

Several  were  proffered.  Accepting  the  first  one 
offered,  the  gamin  prepared  to  strike  it  on  his  trou 
sers'  leg.  Then  suddenly  arresting  his  hand,  he  made 
a  motion  towards  his  mouth  as  if  he  had  forgotten 
his  pipe,  tapping  his  pockets  one  after  another  in 
succession. 

"  Sure,  now,  if  I  on'y  jist  had  the  loan  of  a  pipe 
an'  tobacky,  Mick  Phelan,  I'd  be  bavin'  a  shmoke!" 

A  shout  of  laughter  greeted  Bat's  sally,  and  Mick, 


332  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

with   the   instinct   of   a   budding  political   boss,    pro 
duced  both  pipe  and  tobacco. 

Jim  Owens  stated  the  question  before  the  meeting: 
"  What  are  the  Terrors  a-goin1  to  do  about  the  dago 
gur-rl?"  Mick  Phelan,  as  befitted  his  dignity,  said 
nothing.  But  with  the  foresight  of  a  true  politician  he 
had  prompted  several  of  his  henchmen  to  express  his 
opinion.  This  soon  set  the  passions  of  the  Terrors 
ablaze. 

The  meeting  was  a  stormy  one  and  the  angry  Ter 
rors  clamoured  for  an  opportunity  to  show  their 
strength.  Here  at  last  was  something  of  importance 
which  called  for  united  action  on  the  part  of  the  so 
ciety.  At  the  end  of  an  excited  outburst,  Mick  kicked 
against  the  door  to  enforce  silence  and  then  an 
nounced  the  deliberate  action  of  the  club,  delivered  in 
his  best  high-tragedy  voice :  "  This  is  more'n  the  'Mal- 
gamated  Terrors  is  a-goin'  to  stand.  Brother  Ter 
rors,  I  order  a  str-r-rike !  " 

Mick  did  not  rise  the  next  morning  when  his 
mother  called  him.  When  his  father  was  on  strike  he 
was  accustomed  to  lie  abed  late.  It  was  not  until  his 
mother  appeared  by  his  bedside  that  he  rose.  Even 
then  he  did  not  tell  her  why  he  slept  so  late.  When  he 
had  reinforced  his  courage  by  his  breakfast  he  ven 
tured  to  tell  her  that  the  breaker  boys  had  agreed  to 
go  on  strike.  For  a  moment  she  stood  with  her  arm 
upraised  holding  the  knife  with  which  she  had  been 
cutting  bread  for  the  children.  Then  dropping  the 
knife  she  towered  over  Mick  threateningly. 

"So  you  will  go  on  strike?"   she  said,   reaching 


STRIKE  tf/'MALGAMATED  TERRORS  333 

down  for  his  coat  collar.  "  So  you  will  go  on  strike, 
will  you?  " 

''Hold  on! — Mother! — Howly  snakes — Don't! — 
Wait  a  minute ! — Do  you  mind, — we've  got  to  strike. 
• — We  can't  have — a  gur-rl  dago — pickin'  slate " 

Mrs.  Phelan  had  wound  her  fingers  into  Mick's 
collar  in  order  to  steady  her  son  while  she  punctuated 
his  protests.  The  last  vigourous  spank,  a  well-directed 
and  uplifting  stroke,  fairly  landed  him  in  the  yard. 

"  Now  gwan  out  o'  this.  To  wor-rk  wid  y'.  It's 
strikes  enough  we've  had  in  this  house,"  she  added 
grimly  as  she  resumed  the  task  of  cutting  bread  for 
the  frightened  younger  Phelans,  while  Mick  took 
his  disconsolate  way  to  the  breaker,  being  devoutly 
thankful  that  his  father's  work  made  it  necessary  for 
him  to  leave  the  house  earlier  than  the  breaker  boys. 
His  father's  temper  was  not  so  quickly  quenched  as  his 
mother's. 


A  SCAB  SLATE  PICKER 


"  //  the  world  tolerates  misery  of  any  kind,  it  is  to 
turn  it  to  account  for  its  own  purposes,  to  make  some 
use  of  it,  saddle  and  bridle  it,  put  a  bit  in  its  mouth, 
ride  it  about  and  get  some  fun  out  of  it." — BALZAC. 


XXIII 

A  SCAB  SLATE  PICKER 

IT  was  highly  unfortunate  for  the  ambitions  of 
little  Pippinella  Jindy,  who  aspired  to  become  a 
slate  picker,  that  such  an  experience  as  that  of 
Mick  Phelan,  when  he  announced  to  his  mother  that 
the  'Malgamated  Terrors  had  gone  on  strike,  had  also 
befallen  nearly  every  other  member  of  the  organisa 
tion.  The  backbone  of  the  strike  had  been  effectually 
broken  by  the  blows  of  the  respective  mothers  of  the 
Terrors,  but  the  boys  had  been  stung  by  the  process 
into  a  kind  of  unreasoning  resentment  against  poor 
little  Italian  Pippinella,  as  though  she  were  directly 
responsible  for  their  sufferings. 

By  some  sort  of  intuition  Pippinella  seemed  to  un 
derstand  this.  For  this  reason  she  kept  away  from  the 
breaker,  although  the  family  sadly  needed  her  wages. 

Nobody  but  one  who  has  seen  it,  can  imagine  what 
hardship  falls  upon  a  mining  village  when  the  sign 


NO  WORK 


is    posted    at    the    colliery    office.     In    a    community 
where  there  are  various  industries  a  man  who  is  out 

337 


338  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

of  work  of  one  sort  may  seek  employment  of  another 
kind.  But  in  many  of  the  coal  mining  towns  there  is 
no  other  sort  of  employment.  The  stores  close.  The 
schools  dwindle.  The  company  houses  empty.  Pit 
there  are  always  some  who  cannot  move  away.  These 
linger  on  in  want  and  discouragement.  In  many  cases 
the  men  go  off  in  search  of  work,  leaving  their 
families  behind.  Upon  these  helpless  ones,  the  women 
and  children,  the  severest  hardship  falls. 

During  the  hard  times  at  the  Mudluck  breaker  those 
who  lived  in  the  company's  houses  soon  moved  away, 
while  their  less  fortunate  neighbours,  who  had  begun 
to  buy  property  during  the  good  times  and  had  not 
yet  paid  for  their  homes,  were  in  the  worst  plight. 
It  was  then  that  the  community  learned  of  the  action 
of  Mr.  Hudderfield. 

Mark  Owens  reported  it  in  his  saloon.  "  Old  Sun- 
derland  Red  has  done  a  nice  thing,  now  I  tell  you! 
Mortgaged  his  house  to  raise  the  money  to  give  $50 
apiece  to  all  the  families  in  his  church  where  the  man's 
away  from  home  to  seek  work.  Yes,  sir,  mortgaged 
his  new  house  that  was  supposed  to  be  built  for  some 
young  woman.  Must  be  goin'  to  get  married.  What 
else  did  he  build  a  house  for?  Now  he's  give  the 
money  to  the  women  and  children,  without  any  se 
curity  or  certainty  that  it'll  ever  be  paid  back. 

"  I  ain't  no  religious  shark,"  he  went  on,  "  but  if  old 
Sunderland  Red  ain't  showed  that  he's  got  a  genuwine 
brand  for  his  religion  then  there  ain't  none  in  the 
cask." 

If  the  miners  had  suffered  during  the  strike,   the 


THE  SCAB  SLATE  PICKER        339 

unskilled  Italian  and  Slavic  labourers,  whose  wages 
even  in  good  times  seldom  rise  to  a  point  where  they 
can  save  anything,  suffered  still  more  keenly.  When 
the  men  in  the  union  had  given  up  and  gone  back  to 
work  again,  these  foreigners  who  had  helped  to  break 
the  strike  came  in  for  such  a  share  of  hatred  and 
persecution  that  they  could  hardly  find  work  of  any 
sort.  There  was  some  slight  excuse,  therefore,  for 
their  sending  their  sons  to  work  in  the  breaker  even 
when  they  had  not  reached  the  legal  age,  since  their 
families  were  almost  starving. 

So  it  came  about  that  beside  the  'Malgamated  Ter 
rors  there  were  in  the  breaker  a  number  of  Italian 
boys,  bullet-headed,  stocky  little  fellows,  mostly  un 
der  age,  who  had  been  set  to  work  by  their  parents  to 
help  support  their  families  in  their  dire  need.  These 
boys  fell  under  ban  with  Pippinella  and  life  became 
miserable  for  them. 

When  the  mirth  of  the  community  over  the  strike 
of  the  'Malgamated  Terrors  had  somewhat  subsided, 
Pippinella  prepared  herself  to  go  back  into  the  breaker 
again.  The  members  of  the  organization  had  been  on 
the  watch  for  her  daily,  and  every  morning  the  two 
factions  lined  up  on  opposite  sides  of  the  valley  be 
tween  the  culm  dumps,  the  Terrors  for  offensive  war 
fare  and  the  Italian  boys  for  mutual  protection. 

On  the  morning  when  Pippinella  returned  to  work, 
Mick  Phelan  and  his  crowd  appeared  on  the  culm 
clump  which  overlooked  the  staircase  leading  to  the 
new  breaker,  threatening  the  Italian  boys  with  vio 
lence  if  they  attempted  to  man  the  screens.  The 


340  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

crowd  of  younger  boys,  being  without  a  leader,  stood 
huddled  sullenly  together  out  of  range  of  the  party 
on  the  dump,  uncertain  whether  to  fight  or  run. 

As  the  whistle  blew  there  came  up  a  strange  figure 
wearing  a  man's  coat,  with  the  sleeves  cut  off  at  the 
elbows,  and  with  old  blue  overalls  covering  the  legs. 
The  shoes  were  pointed  at  the  toes  and  had  evidently 
once  belonged  to  a  lady.  The  hair  was  cropped  short, 
revealing  a  bullet-shaped  head  and  a  fighting  jaw. 

"  Hi !  Here  comes  the  king  of  the  dagoes !  "  shrieked 
Mick. 

When  the  ragamuffin  attempted  to  mount  the  stairs 
he  was  greeted  with  a  fusilade  of  stones,  flung  against 
the  side  of  the  breaker  so  as  to  make  a  terrifying  noise. 

In  spite  of  this,  the  boy  seemed  about  to  pass  up 
into  the  breaker.  The  crowd  huddled  below  wavered 
for  a  moment  and  would  have  followed.  But  at  that 
instant  Mick  Phelan  raised  his  voice  to  its  most  ma 
lignant  note,  crying,  "  Scabs !  Scabs !  Kill  the 
scabs !  " 

The  ragamuffin  on  the  steps  came  back,  waving  his 
arms.  "  Scab !  "  he  shrieked.  "  He  call-a  you  scab !  " 
Then  in  Italian  he  screamed  some  challenge  which 
stiffened  up  the  wavering  line  and  sent  it  charging 
up  the  steep  side  of  the  culm  bank.  The  leader  did 
not  wait  to  see  whether  the  crowd  followed,  but  with 
splendid  courage  raced  towards  the  top  some  two 
paces  ahead  of  the  others. 

It  was  but  a  brief  battle.  Mick  was  an  ancient, 
enemy  and  straight  for  him  the  column  rushed.  But 
before  they  came  into  personal  conflict  a  heavy  lump 


THE  SCAB  SLATE  PICKER        341 

of  slate  shattered  the  leader's  ankle  and  he  went  over 
the  edge  of  the  bank  in  a  lump.  A  hoarse  shout  from 
the  breaker  boss  who  had  come  out  to  see  what  was 
the  cause  of  the  tumult  scattered  the  combatants  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  boys  were  in  their  places  while 
the  limp  figure  of  the  leader  was  carried  into  the  office. 

Half  an  hour  later  as  Dr.  Creigan  was  examining 
the  unconscious  child  he  looked  up  quickly  into  the 
faces  of  the  men  gathered  outside  the  door.  "  Why 
this  child  is  a  girl !  "  he  cried.  "  Who  sends  a  girl  to 
the  breaker?  " 

Presently  Pippinella  opened  her  eyes  and  shivered. 
She  looked  wonderingly  into  the  faces  of  the  men  for 
an  instant.  Then  she  tried  to  rise.  "  I  must  get-a  to 
the  breaker,"  she  said. 

"  My  child,  how  does  it  come  that  you  work  in  the 
breaker?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  I  no  mak-a  blame,"  she  said  sullenly.  "  Mick 
Phelan,  he  mak-a  fight." 

"  Why  do  you  work  in  the  breaker?  Girls  oughtn't 
to  work  in  the  breaker  ?  " 

"  My  mudder  she  say  we  must-a  have  job.  We  hun 
gry.  I  mak-a  work  only  li'l  time.  My  brother  Do- 
menico  he  com-a  work  soon.  He  too  li'l  mak-a  fight. 
I  com-a  first  day,  mak-a  fight  with  Mick  Phelan.  Do- 
menico,  he  com-a  next  day.  No  fight;  strike  all  gone; 
all  nice." 

"  Well,  you  won't  make  much  more  fight  for  a 
while." 

"  Will  Domenico  los-a  job,  if  I  no  work-a  to-day?  " 
she  asked  anxiously,  half-rising  only  to  sink  back 


342  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

again  in  pain.  "  You  tak-a  me  in  breaker;  I  sit  on-a 
bench,  pick-a  slate  all  day." 

Just  then  Pippinella's  mother  came  in.  Nobody 
knows  how  the  news  of  such  trouble  travels,  but  it  had 
reached  Reagan's  Patch  almost  as  soon  as  the  tele 
phone  message  had  reached  Mr.  Hatton. 

"  We'll  send  her  to  the  hospital  in  my  carriage," 
Hatton  said. 

But  Mrs.  Jindy  did  not  agree  to  this.  She  gathered 
Pippinella  into  her  arms  as  if  she  had  been  a  babv, 
and  in  spite  of  the  injured  foot,  would  have  carried 
her  off  to  her  home.  When  at  length  she  was  per 
suaded  that  there  would  be  no  effort  to  take  them  both 
away  to  the  hospital,  she  allowed  herself  and  the  child 
to  be  led  by  Mr.  Hatton  to  the  carriage,  still  holding 
Pippinella  in  her  arms  and  crooning  soft  Italian  en 
dearments  over  her. 

When  they  reached  the  wretched  little  tenement, 
Pippinella,  who  had  not  cried  out  while  the  doctor  set 
the  bones  of  the  foot,  burst  into  loud  wails  at  the 
sight  of  the  pointed-toed  shoe  slit  from  top  to  sole  by 
the  doctor's  lancet. 

"  Never  mind,"  Mr.  Hatton  said,  "  I'll  send  you  a 
pair  of  shoes  with  all  the  buttons  on  them,  which 
won't  need  to  be  tied  on  with  rags." 

"  Will  breaker  boss  keep-a  job  for  me  till  I  get-a 
well?" 

'  No,  Pippinella,  we  can't  have  girls  working  in 
the  breaker;  but  I  have  been  talking  to  your  father 
and  I'll  give  him  a  job  as  watchman  of  the  breaker, 
where  he  can  make  a  great  deal  more  than  you  could 


THE  SCAB  SLATE  PICKER        343 

picking  slate.  You  must  hurry  up  and  get  well  and 
you  and  Domenico  must  go  to  school.  I  think  Mrs. 
Hatton  has  some  sort  of  plan  for  what  she  calls  a 
'  settlement  house,'  where  there  will  be  all  sorts  of 
games  and  pictures  and  fun  for  you  and  the  rest  of 
the  children  of  the  Patch." 

To  which  Pippinella  only  replied :  "  Mick  Phelan, 
he  no  let-a  me  play  games  in  the  Patch.  But  Mrs. 
Hatton  mak-a  all  right."  Then  looking  at  her  foot, 
as  if  it  were  through  it  that  the  good  times  were  to 
come,  she  added,  "  Won't  Mick  Phelan  be  mad-a 
'cause  I  no  break-a  his  foot  ?  " 


IN  THE  SINKAGES 


"I'm  will  in'  a  man  should  go  tollable  strong 
Agin  wrong  in  the  abstract,  for  thai  kind  of  wrong 
Is  allers  unpop'lar  an'  never  gets  pitied, 
Because  it's  a  crime  no  one  ever  committed; 
But  he  mustn't  be  hard  on  partickler  sins 
Cos  then  he'll  be  kickin'  the  people's  own  shins." 

— LOWELL. 


XXIV 

IN  THE  SINKAGES 

WHEN  Whiz  Nichol  borrowed  money  from 
Bishop  Vaux  he  did  not  say  that  it  would 
be  spent  in  providing  himself  with  the 
means  necessary  to  commit  burglary  upon  the  home 
of  Rector  Warne.  In  fact  at  that  time  he  had  not  de 
termined  to  commit  burglary.  If  he  had  declared  such 
a  determination  the  bishop  might  not  have  advanced 
him  the  money. 

Mr.  Nichol  was  driven  to  burglary  by  the  force  of 
circumstances.  He  had  long  ago  exhausted  the  chari 
table  impulses  of  Rector  Warne  and  the  good  people  of 
Coalton,  so  that  he  was  obliged  to  range  further  and 
further  from  home  in  his  efforts  to<  secure  money. 
This  brought  him  at  length  to  the  home  of  Bishop 
Vaux  in  Carbonville. 

In  the  meantime  he  found  himself  increasingly 
thirsty  and  decreasingly  anxious  or  able  to  work.  He 
reported  to  the  bishop  that  he  had  been  promised  a 
job  at  the  Hatton  colliery,  but  was  without  funds  to 
supply  himself  with  tools.  When  he  mentioned  Coal- 
ton,  the  tender  heart  of  the  bishop  immediately  melted 
and  he  gave  the  money  quite  cheerfully  to  Nichol,  ac 
cepting  his  statement  that  he  was  a  member  of  the 

347 


348  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

church  and  that  he  would  hunt  up  the  bishop's  son-in- 
law  as  soon  as  he  should  reach  Coalton. 

Most  of  the  money  was  spent  for  drink  and  when 
Nichol  did  visit  the  rectory  it  was  after  midnight  and 
through  the  laundry  door. 

It  was  a  most  inopportune  time  for  a  burglary, 
right  in  the  midst  of  Holy  Week.  None  but  an  ill- 
conditioned  burglar  would  have  chosen  such  a  time 
to  rob  the  rectory.  But  that  was  just  the  sort  of  man 
Whiz  Nichol  was,  always  supremely  selfish.  It  was 
because  he  knew  that  Rector  Warne  would  be  tired 
out,  and  therefore  not  easily  wakened,  that  he  chose 
such  a  time.  Furthermore,  it  was  his  first  burglary 
and  he  was  naturally  a  little  nervous  about  it.  But  the 
principal  reason  why  he  chose  such  a  victim  at  such 
a  time,  was  because  of  his  own  dire  need  for  money. 
The  time  was  inconvenient  for  the  rector,  to  be  sure, 
but  then  there  is  always  more  than  one  person's  con 
venience  to  be  consulted,  even  in  a  burglary.  That 
much  must  be  said  in  favour  of  Whiz  Nichol. 

The  entrance  had  been  more  easily  managed  than 
Mr.  Nichol  had  dared  to  hope.  It  had  really  proved 
to  be  a  very  simple  matter.  Two  hours  and  twenty 
minutes  after  the  gas  in  the  rector's  bed-room  had 
gone  out,  the  burglar  had  walked  up  to  the  door; 
that  is,  he  had  skulked  stealthily  from  the  screen  of 
evergreens  in  the  rear  of  the  house  to  the  shadow  by 
the  door  of  the  laundry  shed.  Then  he  opened  the 
door,  starting  the  bolt  noiselessly  with  the  short  bar 
of  iron  he  carried.  He  shrank  back  into  the  shadow 
again,  shivering  with  nervous  dread,  after  the  door 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  349 

was  opened,  looking  about  carefully  outside,  as  well 
as  listening  intently  for  full  five  minutes  to  make  sure 
that  there  was  no  stir  within.  While  he  was  listening, 
he  heard  the  whistle  of  the  one  o'clock  express. 

"  The  sign  says  '  Stop,  Look  and  Listen ! '  and  I've 
done  all  t'ree."  He  could  afford  to  joke  over  his  easy 
entrance.  When  the  express  should  rumble  over  the 
causeway  crossing  the  creek,  he  meant  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  the  noise  and  break  open  the  door  between 
the  laundry  and  the  kitchen.  But  here  the  inner  and 
stronger  door  had  been  left  unlocked,  and  he  joy 
ously  found  himself  in  possession  of  the  lower  floor. 
His  plan  had  been  to  satisfy  his  hunger,  for  he  had 
fasted  all  that  day  more  rigorously  than  the  rector 
himself,  although  not  for  the  glory  of  God.  But 
when  he  stood,  listening  again,  by  the  cellar  door, 
his  appetite  failed  him. 

"  I  c'n  eat  after  I  git  me  hands  on  de  bood,"  he 
whispered  to  himself  nervously. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  Whiz  Nichol  should  be  start 
ing  a  career  of  burglary,  or  that  he  should  be  a  coward. 
Basely  born,  worse  reared,  untaught,  ill-fed,  there 
seemed  no  hope  for  him  in  the  world  of  honest  men 
and  no  place  for  him  but  the  prison. 

For  the  present,  the  prison  seemed  far  away,  his 
plunder  conveniently  near;  for  there  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs  was  the  rector's  room  and  there,  hanging 
on  a  clothes-tree,  was  the  suit  of  clothes  which 
he  had  taken  off.  The  burglar  quickly  possessed 
himself  of  the  watch.  Warne  was  one  of  those 
leisure-loving  people  who  wind  their  watches  in  the 


350  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

morning-  and  so  had  had  no  need  to  remove  his  time 
piece  from  his  clothing  at  night.  Besides  the  watch 
the  burglar  found  the  rector's  purse.  It  was  heavier 
than  usual,  for  the  manager  of  the  guild  fair,  which 
was  held  just  before  the  beginning  of  Lent,  had  made 
her  return  of  moneys  only  a  few  hours  before. 

The  rector  seldom  had  so  much  money  on  hand. 

Thus  far  the  burglar  had  worked  by  the  light  of 
the  street  lamps  outside;  but  now  when  it  was  neces 
sary  to  make  further  search  through  drawers  and 
closets  for  other  valuables,  he  began  lighting  safety 
matches.  These  matches  would  not  be  so  likely  to 
waken  the  sleeper,  either  by  their  crackling  on  ignition 
or  by  the  smell  of  sulphur. 

Now  just  at  this  point  was  where  Whiz  Nichol 
made  his  first  mistake.  He  should  have  been  more 
modest  in  his  desires,  especially  since  it  was  his  first 
burglary.  "When  a  beginner  is  fortunate  enough  to  fill 
his  pockets  with  hundred-dollar  watches  and  'well- 
filled  pocketbooks  in  his  first  venture  at  burglary,  he 
should  not  be  too  greedy.  But  if  he  is  going  to  try 
for  a  full  haul,  he  should  be  supplied  with  proper  ap 
pliances.  If  Mr.  Whiz  Nichol  had  only  provided  him 
self  with  a  bag  containing  pockets  in  the  lining,  there 
would  have  been  no  trouble.  But  some  things  must 
be  learned  by  experience,  and  he  was  only  an  amateur 
as  yet.  As  it  was,  when  he  started  up  from  the  closet 
where  he  had  found  the  communion  plate,  the  silver 
rattled  in  his  bag,  and  the  rector  instantly  sat  bolt 
upright  in  bed. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  demanded,  blinking  at 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  351 

the  light  of  the  match  which  the  burglar  held  in  his 
unsteady  hand. 

Whiz  Nichol  reached  his  other  hand  into  his  hip 
pocket  and  drew  out  a  shiny,  ridiculous  22-calibre  re 
volver,  which  he  quickly  cocked  and  pointed  at  the 
rector's  breast,  just  as  he  had  seen  the  villain  do  in 
the  theatre. 

"  Keep  mum,"  he  entreated  in  a  voice  which  was 
meant  to  be  stern.  Then  in  the  villain's  voice,  as  he 
had  carefully  prepared  beforehand :  "  Don't  take  an 
other  step,  or  you  die  right  there !  " 

This  speech  shows  the  difficulty  of  planning  a  bur 
glary  beforehand.  Whiz  Nichol  was  entirely  pre 
pared  with  a  speech  which  should  discourage  pursuit, 
but  he  had  not  counted  on  parleying  with  a  solicitous 
husband  and  father  blinking  benignly  without  his 
spectacles  in  a  vain  endeavour  to  make  out  what  was 
wrong  with  his  household. 

"What  is  it  you  have  there?  Did  you  want  me 
to  get  something,  my  dear?"  said  the  rector,  sup 
posing  the  burglar  to  be  his  wife  and  beginning  to 
move  about  under  the  bedclothes  as  if  to  rise. 

Warne  had  forgotten  in  his  half-dazed  condition 
that  his  wife  and  children  were  absent,  on  a  visit  to  the 
bishop,  until  after  Easter. 

There  was  clearly  no  time  for  further  oratory  of 
the  melodrama  type  on  the  part  of  the  burglar.  "  Git 
nawthin',"  he  growled  in  a  most  unfeminine  voice. 
"  I  ain't  yer  dear.  You  crawl  right  down  under  them 
covers  and  don't  you  peep,  or  you'll  git  a  free  ticket 
to  heaven  on  the  smokeless  powder  route.  See!  " 


352  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

It  was  no  lack  of  personal  bravery  on  the  part  of 
the  rector  \vhich  made  him  act  as  he  did.  Courage 
before  breakfast  is  undoubtedly  rare,  but  wisdom  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning  is  still  more  so,  especially 
in  the  case  of  a  man  who  has  worked  and  prayed  and 
fasted  through  the  forty  days  of  Lent,  until  it  is  im 
possible  for  him  to  wake  himself  thoroughly  even 
when  he  realizes  that  there  is  a  burglar  in  his  room. 

Warne  sank  obediently  down  into  the  bed  again  and 
the  burglar  hastened  to  the  staircase.  The  clergy 
man  felt  no  particular  resentment  against  the  bur 
glar  when  he  saw  him  stuff  the  chain  of  his  valuable 
watch  into  his  pocket.  But  the  pocketbook  contained 
money  which  did  not  belong  to  the  rector.  Was  it 
right  to  allow  the  thief  to  abstract  that? 

While  he  was  debating  the  matter,  he  noticed  that 
the  bag  which  the  burglar  carried  held  the  communion 
plate.  The  thought  of  thieves  gathering  round  a  melt 
ing  pot  in  which  these  hallowed  vessels  were  sinking 
among  the  flames,  stirred  him  to  the  keenest  resent 
ment.  This  was  succeeded  by  a  flash-light  mental 
photograph  of  abandoned  creatures  indulging  in  some 
orgy  of  drunkenness  from  these  vessels,  which  roused 
him  to  the  pitch  of  righteous  frenzy  in  which  he  could 
have  slain  the  violators  with  the  same  unction  as  the 
prophet  showed  when  the  priests  of  Baal  fell  into  his 
hands. 

So,  before  the  burglar  could  reach  the  door,  the  rec 
tor's  sleepy,  foolish  brain  sent  him  springing  from  his 
bed  and  precipitated  him  upon  the  retreating  form  of 
Whiz  Nichol.  It  was  but  a  brief  struggle.  The 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  353 

burglar  struck  out  savagely  with  his  bag  of  plunder, 
half-stunning  the  rector.  Mr.  Warne  held  on,  how 
ever,  until  the  burglar  stumbled  in  the  dark  over  the 
edge  of  the  stairway.  Together  they  rolled  to  the 
bottom,  but  when  he  regained  consciousness  the  bur 
glar  had  escaped.  The  silver  had  lodged  on  the 
staircase  and  was  left  behind,  bent,  and  dented  some 
what;  but  the  watch  and  the  money  were  gone. 

On  the  second  Monday  after  Easter,  when  the  rec 
tor  paid  his  weekly  visit  to  the  city  hospital,  he  found 
that  all  the  inmates  who  had  accepted  his  ministrations 
up  to  that  time  had  been  discharged.  When  he  in 
quired  whether  there  were  no  new  cases,  Dr.  Creigan 
said:  "Why  yes;  there  is  one  case  you  might  see. 
Came  in  last  night.  Acute  alcoholism.  Threatened 
with  delirium  tremens.  Only  a  boy,  too.  An  under 
fed  creature.  A  physical  degenerate.  A  moral  wreck, 
too,  I  fear." 

The  doctor  knew  that  he  could  say  nothing  that 
would  interest  the  rector  more  than  this.  Like  the 
physician  himself,  whose  professional  pride  was 
touched  by  the  most  desperate  cases,  Mr.  Warne  seemed 
to  rouse  himself  for  the  most  strenuous  effort  where 
the  moral  need  was  the  greatest. 

When  the  rector  found  himself  in  the  room  alone 
with  the  new  patient,  he  stood  for  a  moment  gazing 
intently  into  his  face,  bewildered  by  the  sense  of 
having  seen  the  man  before.  Then  with  a  sudden 
enlightenment  he  seated  himself  by  the  narrow  iron 
cot  and  read  the  passage  he  had  chosen  from  the 
Book.  Prayer  followed  and  then  the  rector  pleaded 


354  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

most  earnestly  with  his  hearer  for  a  life  of  purity  and 
purpose.  But  in  spite  of  his  earnest  words  and  his 
intention  to  point  the  wretched  being  before  him  to  a 
better  life,  the  visitor  was  conscious  all  the  while  of  an 
unreality  about  his  words.  To  himself  he  kept  saying, 
"  Why  not  call  in  the  police  and  let  the  law  take  its 
course  with  this  vicious  creature?  Would  it  be  right 
to  let  him  go  free  to  prey  again  upon  society?  " 

Warne  remembered  how  savagely  the  burglar  struck 
at  him  with  the  heavy  bag  of  plunder  as  they 
struggled  towards  the  stairs  and  how  ruthlessly  he 
had  beaten  him  into  insensibility.  In  spite  of  his 
efforts  to  hold  his  mind  to  the  words  of  the  prayer- 
book,  the  rector  found  that  his  thoughts  wandered 
and  that  his  words  were  perfunctory.  Rising  abruptly, 
he  left  the  room,  after  stating  that  he  would  return 
in  a  few  days. 

He  did  not  go  home  after  leaving  the  hospital. 
He  wanted  time  to  think.  His  thinking  took  longer 
than  he  had  expected  and  it  was  some  time  after 
he  had  left  the  bedside  of  the  burglar  before  he 
started  back  towards  his  home  again.  To  reach  the 
rectory  from  the  mountain  side  where  he  had  been 
walking,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  cross  a  desolate 
strip  of  ground  which  had  been  undermined,  \vhere 
the  surface  had  been  ruined  by  sinkages.  It  was  al 
most  dark  when  he  came  to  this  doleful  spot  and  he 
found  it  necessary  to  pick  his  way  very  carefully  to 
avoid  falling  into  one  of  the  numerous  fissures  through 
the  midst  of  which  the  path  led.  Part  of  the  tract 
had  been  covered  with  trees  when  the  pillars  of  coal 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  355 

were  taken  away  from  beneath  and  these  had  fallen 
into  confusion  through  the  sinking  of  the  earth  from 
beneath  their  roots.  In  the  lowest  part  of  the  valley 
there  were  pools  of  water. 

While  he  was  in  the  very  midst  of  this  dangerous 
territory,  the  rector  was  startled  to  see  the  skulking 
figure  of  a  man  move  from  behind  one  of  the  fallen 
tree  trunks  and  start  to  run  in  the  direction  of  a 
black  pool  of  water.  He  moved  forward  until  he 
was  opposite  this  dark  lake  and  then  stopped  to  see 
what  the  figure  would  do.  As  he  looked,  he  recog 
nised  in  the  moving  figure  the  tottering  form  of  Whiz 
Nichol.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Warne  ran 
towards  him  and  would  have  seized  him  by  the 
hand  to  lead  him  back  to  the  hospital,  but  the  bur 
glar  flung  himself  toward  one  of  the  crevasses  with 
which  the  surface  yawned  and  would  have  been  smoth 
ered  in  the  earth,  had  the  rector  not  caught  him. 

"  Let  me  go,"  he  panted.  "  I'll  bury  myself  in  one 
of  these  sink  holes  and  you'll  never  hear  of  me  again. 
Why  should  you  take  me  to  the  pen?  Let  me  go! 
Let  me  go!  "  His  voice  rose  into  a  feeble  shriek  as 
he  uttered  the  last  words. 

The  rector  held  firmly  to  the  struggling  youth. 
"  No,  I  won't  let  you  go.  You  might  hide  your  body 
in  the  earth;  but  the  time  will  come  when  your  soul 
will  call  in  vain  for  the  rocks  to  cover  you  from  the 
sight  of  Almighty  God." 

It  was  so  nearly  dark  now  that  they  could  not  see 
clearly  their  surroundings.  Thus  it  happened  as  they 
were  crossing  the  ridge  where  Whiz  Nichol  saw  a 


356  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

wider  crevass,  that  he  sprang  towards  it,  taking  his 
pursuer  unawares.  Again  Mr.  Warne  felt  himself 
dragged  into  danger  as  he  had  been  on  the  night  of 
the  burglary.  But  this  time  there  was  a  richer  prize 
at  stake. 

With  all  his  might  he  struggled  to  save  a  soul  from 
death.  But  the  treacherous  sand  gave  way  and  in 
another  moment  they  were  sliding  downward,  chok 
ing  with  dust,  in  the  midst  of  an  avalanche  of  gravel. 
This  time  it  was  the  rector's  turn  to  land  on  top  and 
when  he  dragged  himself  from  the  body  of  the  bur 
glar,  he  found  that  the  latter  did  not  rise.  Groping 
about  in  the  darkness,  he  discovered  that  Nichol  was 
bleeding  from  a  scratch  in  the  neck.  This  he  staunched 
as  quickly  as  possible  with  his  handkerchief  and  with 
strips  torn  from  the  lining  of  his  coat. 

In  feeling  around  to  find  a  way  out,  the  rector 
discovered  that  there  was  great  danger  of  bringing 
down  loose  earth  enough  to  smother  them,  while  the 
insecure  footing  beneath  slipped  and  trembled  so  vio 
lently  that  he  feared  lest  they  should  sink  still  further 
into  the  mine  beneath.  He  therefore  called  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  hoping  that  some  one  in  the  settle 
ment  on  the  hill  beyond  might  hear.  His  shouts 
roused  the  burglar,  who  presently  sat  up  and  groped 
about  feebly. 

The  two  men  sat  facing  each  other  in  the  darkness. 
When  the  burglar  recovered  sufficiently  to  realise 
what  had  happened,  he  began  to  reproach  his  captor 
for  hounding  him  and  for  preventing  him  from  self- 
destruction.  Once  more  Warne  struggled  to  find 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  357 

a  way  of  access  to  the  burglar's  better  nature.  His 
words  were  no  longer  those  of  the  professional  priest, 
but  the  cry  of  a  soul  that  has  found  its  way  out  of 
darkness,  to  its  companion  who  still  struggles  among 
the  lost. 

"Aw,  you  can't  fool  me!"  the  burglar  muttered 
presently.  "  I  know  well  enough  you're  just  holding 
on  to  me  till  you  can  find  a  cop  to  pinch  me." 

"  Nichol,"  said  the  rector  earnestly,  "  This  after 
noon  I  would  have  turned  you  over  to  the  police.  In 
fact  I  started  away  from  the  hospital  intending  to  do 
that  very  thing." 

"  I  knew  it,"  the  burglar  cried.  "  I  could  see  it  in 
yer  face.  That's  why  I  sneaked  off  from  the  hospital. 
Now  why  don't  you  let  me  go?  " 

"  I  have  let  you  go.  I  forgive  you  now.  I  believe 
the  law  of  Christ  requires  me  to  love  you  enough  to 
help  you  to  be  a  better  man.  You  needn't  be  afraid 
I'll  turn  you  over  to  the  police." 

"How  do  I  know  that  you  mean  what  you  say?" 

"  Here's  one  way  you  can  tell  whether  I  am  in 
earnest  or  not.  There  are  some  twenty  feet  of  crum 
bling  earth  over  our  heads;  when  you  dragged  me  down 
here  it  loosened  the  edges  of  this  cave-in;  if  a  heavy 
coal  train  passes  down  the  road  it  may  jar  that  earth 
down  and  smother  us  both.  My  business  is  to  tell 
you  what  to  do  to  prepare  to  meet  God,  if  that  mass 
of  earth  should  fall." 

The  burglar  listened  quietly  while  the  rector 
pleaded  as  he  had  never  done  before,  now  with  God 
for  help  and  mercy,  now  with  the  burglar  himself. 


358  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

"  I'd  like  to  believe  you,"  he  said  at  last,  "  But  look 
the  way  you  treated  me  that  night  I  was  in  yer  house ! 
You  weren't  lovin'  me  much  just  then.  I  was  afraid 
of  you  and  when  I  started  to  run  you  held  on  to  me 
with  a  grip  that  was  as  hard  as  hell.  I  thought  first 
you  had  some  knife  or  somethin'  and  I  struck  at  you. 
You  knowed  I  was  armed,  why  didn't  you  keep  away  ? 
I  wasn't  hurtin'  you  none.  What  did  you  use  me  that 
way  fer?  Why  I  thought  you'd  tear  the  heart  out  o' 
me  with  yer  hands.  Talk  about  lovin'  yer  neighbour 
as  yerself !  What  did  yer  treat  me  that  way  fer,  say?  " 

The  rector  drew  his  breath  rather  hard  for  a  mo 
ment  but  said  nothing. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  livin'  rough  ?  You 
was  never  hungry  in  yer  life,  when  you  couldn't  get 
all  you  wanted  to  eat.  Yes,  I  know  you'll  say  I  could 
work;  but  you  wouldn't  give  me  work  yerself." 

"  You  never  asked  for  it." 

"  Didn't  I  ?  How  about  the  young  feller  that  come 
to  yer  door  only  the  Tuesday  before  I  broke — before 
I  got  into  yer  house?  Do  you  remember  what  word 
you  sent  down  to  the  door  from  yer  office?  " 

"  I  sent  no  message  down.  I  was  busy  with  the 
treasurer  of  the  guild  fair  and  the  maid  told  you  to 
come  back  at  another  time. 

'  Yes,  an'  when  I  come  back  in  the  afternoon,  the 
snow  was  all  cleaned  off  yer  front  walk  an'  I  could  go 
hungry — or  beg.  Then  there's  that  guild  fair:  The 
money  was  collected  for  the  poor  of  the  town  wasn't 
it?  Wasn't  I  poor?  I  saved  you  the  trouble  of 
handlin'  it.  When  I  got  that  money  I  meant  to  buy 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  359 

meself  a  decent  suit  of  clothes,  an'  to  pay  me  board, 
an'  to  go  to  church,  an'  to  find  a  job,  an'  live  a  decent 
life." 

"  Nichol,"  said  the  rector  slowly,  "  you've  said 
some  things  to-night  that  I  believe.  If  I  have  ever 
been  hard  on  you  unintentionally,  I  am  sorry.  But 
when  you  talk  like  this  about  getting  a  job  and  going 
to  church,  you  know  you  are  lying.  You  meant  to  do 
just  what  you  did — to  go  and  get  drunk." 

At  this  moment  a  clod  of  earth  fell  from  the  bank 
behind  them  and  the  rector  discovered  that  the  bur 
glar  had  been  diligently  burrowing  with  his  feet  while 
he  engaged  him  with  talk. 

"  You  scoundrel !  "  the  rector  cried  pinioning  the 
man  with  his  arms  while  he  dragged  his  feet  into  a 
harmless  position  in  front  and  sat  upon  them.  "  You 
selfish  beast,  to  endanger  both  our  lives  in  order  to 
sacrifice  your  own !  Have  you  no  gratitude?  Is  there 
nothing  good  to  which  I  can  appeal?"  Then  while 
he  held  him  down  Warne  uttered  the  threatenings 
of  the  law  instead  of  the  promises  of  the  gospel,  until, 
realizing  that  the  man's  delirium  was  to  blame  for 
his  homicidal  mania,  he  came  back  to  the  words  of 
love  with  which  he  had  at  first  sought  entrance  into 
his  soul.  But  he  held  the  burglar  safely  away  from 
the  bank. 

"  O,  Mr.  Warne,"  wailed  the  abject  creature,  shiv 
ering,  "  what  you  said  was  true.  I  took  the  money 
because  I  wanted  to  get  'drink.  I  wish  I  had  a  "drink 
now.  I  feel  so  bad.  I've  got  to  have  a  drink.  They 
wouldn't  give  me  none  at  the  hospital.  I  don't  mind 


360  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

bein'  hungry;  I  can  stand  that.  But  I  can't  stand  this 
thirst.  I've  got  to  have  a  drink,  I  say.  I  ain't  afraid 
of  hell.  I've  got  hell  inside  o'  me  right  now." 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  smell  blood  and  it  makes  me 
sick,"  he  went  on.  "  And  there's  somethin'  the  matter 
with  my  neck.  I  believe  I'm  going  to  die.  I  don't 
want  the  mountains  to  lay  on  me  in  hell.  Take  me 
out  o'  this  place." 

The  men  who  worked  on  the  night  shift,  Hudder- 
field,  Morris  and  young  Phelan,  who  crossed  the  sink- 
age  together  at  nine  o'clock  on  their  way  to  the  mines, 
found  them,  being  guided  to  the  spot  by  their  voices. 
Nichol  had  utterly  collapsed  and  was  muttering  inco 
herently.  The  rector  had  wrapped  him  in  his  over 
coat  and  was  holding  him  in  his  arms  like  a  baby, 
praying  over  him  when  he  thought  him  to  be  rational 
and  praying  for  him  when  the  burglar's  mind  wan 
dered. 

Some  time  afterwards  the  rector  wrote  to  Bishop 
Vaux: 

"  I  seem  to  be  getting  hold  of  the  men  in  a  way 
that  makes  me  profoundly  grateful  to  God.  I  shall 
be  particularly  glad  to  have  you  meet  two  of  them 
when  you  come  up  to  confirm  the  class.  The  first  is 
the  man  who  broke  my  collar  bone  soon  after  I  came 
here.  I  have  never  spoken  of  it  here  nor  explained 
the  newspaper  report  that  ascribed  this  broken  bone 
to  a  fall.  The  fall  was  obtained  in  keeping  a  helpless 
woman  from  abuse  at  the  hands  of  her  drunken  hus 
band.  It  was  a  disagreeable  experience.  When  he 
came  from  jail  I  followed  him  up,  and,  through  our 


IN  THE  SINKAGES  361 

Brotherhood  of  St.  Andrew,  have  kept  hold  of  him 
ever  since.  Strangely  enough,  he  never  showed  the 
slightest  vindictiveness,  even  at  first.  For  three  years 
he  has  been  a  member  of  the  Brotherhood,  and  has 
proved  himself  in  many  ways  thoroughly  in  earnest. 

"  The  other  man  I  want  you  to  meet  is  the  fellow 
to  whom  you  lent  money  that  he  might  come  up  here 
to  try  to  rob  the  rectory.  I  don't  believe  you'd  know 
him  now.  He's  the  engineer  at  the  hospital  plant  and 
he  comes  regularly  to  church  every  other  Sunday, 
after  working  all  day  and  all  night  on  Saturday. 

'*  You  may  remember  that  before  I  came  here  I  was 
in  a  somewhat  unsettled  state  concerning  the  Atone 
ment.  I  have  found  Smeaton  very  satisfactory  on  this 
subject,  and  I  see  no  reason  now  against  adopting  his 
views  entirely.  I  like  his  liberality  exceedingly.  But 
we  will  talk  of  these  matters  further  when  you  come. 
The  truth  is,  I  have  so  much  to  occupy  my  thoughts 
about  other  matters  that  I  have  long  since  ceased  to 
bother  my  brains  with  doubts." 

Concerning  Nichol  one  of  the  vestrymen  remarked 
at  this  time :  "  I  have  noticed  that  Mr.  Nichol  always 
puts  a  five  dollar  bill  on  the  plate;  that's  a  rather  large 
sum  for  a  man  who  gets  no  more  wages  than  I  sup 
pose  he  is  paid.  Do  you  know  anything  about  him, 
Mr.  Warne?" 

"  That's  the  way  he  commenced  to  give  when  he 
began  to  come  to  church.  He  started  in  to  pay  what 
he  regarded  a  debt  of  honour  which  he  said  he  owed 
to  the  Lord.  But  that  has  been  discharged  some  time 
ago.  I  am  glad  if  he  still  keeps  up  giving  as  he  did 


362  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

at  first.  I  wish  there  were  more  like  him  in  many 
ways." 

"  But,  Mr.  Warne,  don't  you  know  any  more  about 
it  than  that?"  the  vestryman  persisted. 

The  rector  took  out  his  watch.  "  I  know  that 
what  I  have  told  you  is  true,"  he  said.  Perhaps  he 
did  not  look  at  the  watch  face  at  all,  but  only  at  a 
dented  spot  in  the  case. 


THE  SULPHURING 
OF  SUNDERLAND  RED 


"Serene  and  mild  the  untried  light 

May  have  its  dawning; 
As  meet  in  summer's  northern  night 

The  evening  gray  and  morning  white, 
The  sunset  hues  of  time  blend  with  the  soul's  new 
morning." 

— WHITTIER. 

"  Sleep,  soldiers,  sleep  in  honoured  rest 

Your  truth  and  valour  wearing; 
The  bravest  are  the  tender cst 
The  loving  are  the  daring." 

— TAYLOR. 


XXV 

THE  SULPHURING  OF  SUNDERLAND  RED 

THE  day  was  one  blaze  of  glory  on  the  grounds 
of  the  Carbonville  Country  Club.  A  sky  of 
speckless  blue  bent  over  the  links.  The  air 
was  balm.  The  summer  yellow  birds  rippled  overhead 
on  the  crest  of  waves  of  light. 

The  grounds  of  the  Country  Club  comprised  a  sort 
of  rolling  table-land  on  the  top  of  the  first  range  of 
mountains,  near  the  boulevard  leading  to  Sky  Summit. 
It  was  a  matter  of  common  knowledge  how  much  the 
grounds  had  cost  the  Country  Club,  but  only  the 
trustees  knew  how  much  per  blade  it  cost  to  keep  the 
grass  so  green. 

But  the  members  of  the  Club  thought  it  was  worth 
all  it  cost,  for  when  they  were  here  upon  their  own 
grounds,  they  were  above  all  the  clamour  and  dust  of 
the  world  of  coal  workers  in  the  Anthrax  Valley. 

The  outlook  from  the  club  house  was  marred  by 
but  one  reminder  of  the  busy  world  below,  a  small 
frame  building  from  which  a  jet  of  steam  issued.  It 
was  the  boiler  house  where  a  new  bore-hole  was  being 
driven.  It  was  disfiguring  of  course  and  annoying  to 
think  that  the  company  must  invade  the  landscape 
with  their  machinery,  but  in  the  land  where  coal  is 
king  one  could  not  expect  to  escape  from  the  sight 

365 


366  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

of  toil  and  struggle  altogether.  Some  of  the  visitors 
to  the  club  even  thought  that  the  derrick  which  tow 
ered  above  the  boiler  house  added  to  the  scene. 

It  was  club  clay  and  the  grounds  about  the  hand 
some  club  house  were  filled  with  smart  equipages. 
The  coal  barons  were  out  in  force.  Several  auto 
mobiles  were  gliding  about  the  red  shale  roads  and 
one  tally-ho  coach  had  driven  up.  The  links  were 
gay  with  men  in  scarlet  coats  and  girls  in  green  and 
gold.  Strains  of  music  came  from  the  club  house. 
A  gay  ripple  of  laughter  and  badinage  quickened  the 
bracing  air. 

A  thousand  feet  under  ground,  directly  under  the 
golf  links,  gaunt,  wearied  men,  with  faces  blackened 
with  coal  dust  and  smoke,  were  rushing  down  a  gang 
way  in  the  red-ash  vein  of  the  Hatton  Mine  soon  to 
come  back  gasping  and  faint.  They  were  fighting  a 
fire  in  the  mine. 

The  fire  had  commenced  a  week  before.  Limpy 
Hetherington  had  been  sent  with  a  message  to  the 
superintendent  in  an  adjoining  gangway.  As  he  passed 
through  a  heading,  the  lamp  in  his  cap  set  fire  to  a 
blower  of  gas  in  the  roof.  It  was  a  very  simple  thing. 
Limpy  had  seen  these  jets  of  gas  set  on  fire  purposely 
many  a  time  to  startle  visitors,  and  then  quickly  beaten 
out  again.  So  he  was  not  at  all  concerned. 

He  took  the  lamp  in  his  hand  and  struck  at  the 
flaming  gas  with  his  cap  to  quench  it,  but  it  blazed 
more  fiercely.  Then  he  took  off  his  coat  to  beat  it  out. 
To  his  horror  he  saw  that  the  flame  had  caught  a 
piece  of  dry  timber. 


SULPHURING  0/SUNDERLAND  RED  367 

Now  he  realized  the  danger,  and  dipping  his  coat  in 
the  stream  of  water  running  down  the  gangway  he 
struck  madly  at  the  flame.  But  the  fire,  fanned  by  the 
strong  current  of  air  in  the  heading,  grew  hotter, 
and  soon  the  entire  piece  of  timber  was  burning 
fiercely,  while  the  flames  leaped  to  some  adjoining 
brattice  work. 

When  he  saw  the  hopelessness  of  his  fight  against 
the  fire,  he  turned  and  ran  down  the  gangway  at  full 
speed,  warning  man  after  man  of  the  danger.  The 
men  poured  out  of  the  chambers  and  gangways,  out 
past  the  fire  to  the  foot  of  the  shaft.  Meanwhile  the 
air  rushing  through  the  burning  heading  had  filled 
the  gangway  with  stifling  smoke  and  gas.  Limpy 
struggling  back  towards  the  fire  had  to  bend  low  to 
breathe. 

Just  before  he  reached  the  fire  he  remembered  that 
in  a  new  gangway  to  the  left  a  Pole  had  gone  to  work 
alone  that  very  morning.  He  had  heard  Mr.  Hudder- 
field  talking  about  it,  so  he  knew  exactly  where  it 
was.  This  man  had  not  been  warned.  Even  if  he 
had  heard  the  shouts,  he  knew  no  English  and  so 
could  not  understand  the  danger. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Limpy  turned  back, 
stumbling  and  falling  now  and  then,  but  finally  reach 
ing  the  gangway  where  the  Pole  was  at  work. 

When  Limpy  seized  his  arm  and  frantically  panto- 
mined  "  explosion  "  there  was  no  need  for  English 
speech  to  make  the  Pole  understand  the  danger  of  the 
situation.  He  dropped  his  pick  and  ran  with  the  boy 
for  his  life. 


368  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

The  air  in  the  gangway  seemed  to  be  on  fire;  the 
heading  roared  like  a  furnace.  The  struggle  was  not 
a  long  one.  They  drew  their  jackets  over  their  heads 
and  clung  to  the  rails  for  guidance;  but  the  scorching 
heat  penetrated  their  clothes  and  made  progress  im 
possible.  Their  clothes  were  on  fire,  their  lungs  stifled 
with  the  gas.  Then  the  explosion  came.  A  mass  of 
rock  fell — that  was  all.  It  might  have  been  so  much 
harder!  There  was  no  long,  weary  waiting,  with 
hopes  of  rescue  and  growing  misery.  It  was  all  over 
so  quickly!  Limpy's  had  been  a  good  brave  heart. 
And  as  for  the  Pole,  who  knew? 

All  this  had  happened  a  week  before.  The  fire 
went  on  in  the  meantime  eating  into  the  coal,  burn 
ing  more  fiercely.  The  Company  fought  it  desper 
ately.  All  their  efforts  to  smother  it  out  had  proved 
a  failure.  So  all  the  miners  were  called  out  of  the 
shaft,  until  the  Company  could  fight  the  fire  success 
fully.  If  the  fight  should  fail,  the  waters  of  the 
Anthrax  creek  would  have  to  be  diverted  from  their 
bed  and  poured  into  the  shaft  as  a  last  resort.  If 
that  should  be  necessary,  the  men  might  starve  for 
months  and  the  Company  would  lose  heavily  besides, 
until  the  water  could  be  pumped  out  again  and  the 
necessary  repairs  made  to  the  damaged  machinery. 
So  they  were  fighting  the  fire  face  to  face. 

It  was  a  slow  operation.  Only  a  small  gang  of 
men  could  work  to  advantage  and  there  were  often 
times  when  the  few  men  who  were  in  the  fight  must 
stand  idly  at  a  distance,  because  the  great  heat  cracked 


SULPHURING  <?/SUNDERLAND  RED  369 

and  scaled  down  the  rock  roof,  so  that  to  approach 
the  fire  at  short  range  would  mean  certain  death. 

One  of  the  methods  of  fighting  fire  is  very  simple. 
Tracks  are  always  ready  laid  in  every  gangway  of  the 
mines.  On  these  tracks  sheet-iron  cars  are  run  as 
close  as  possible  to  the  burning  mass  of  coal.  Then 
the  red  hot  coals  are  shovelled  into  the  car  and 
dragged  away  and  extinguished.  The  men  work  from 
four  to  six  hours  at  a  shift  and  receive  double  or 
treble  pay.  If  it  can  find  them,  the  Company  prefers 
to  employ  only  unmarried  men,  so  that  there  may  be 
no  widows  or  orphans  to  be  provided  for  when  the 
men  are  killed. 

The  most  daring  of  the  fire  fighters  was  Sunder- 
land  Red.  He  worked  madly  on  his  shift  hoping,  yet 
without  hope,  that  beyond  the  fire  somewhere  Limpy 
Hetherington  might  still  be  alive  and  might  yet  be 
reached. 

He  had  worked  in  the  mines  for  so  long  that  he  had 
become  entirely  calloused  to  the  dangers  of  fire  fight 
ing.  To  prevent  the  nerves  of  some  of  the  younger 
men  from  being  shaken,  the  ambulance  which  was  kept 
constantly  on  hand  to  carry  the  injured  to  the  hospital 
or  the  dead  to  their  homes,  was  driven  behind  the 
boiler  house,  by  the  direction  of  Mr.  Hatton,  so  that 
the  men  should  not  see  it  when  they  came  up  or  went 
down  the  shaft.  But  Sunderland  Red  cared  not  for 
the  sight  of  the  ambulance,  and  as  for  the  stretchers 
and  blankets  that  were  kept  in  the  mine  for  the  use 
of  the  injured,  he  would  rather  have  slept  on  them 


370  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

than  in  his  own  bed,  because  by  that  means  he  would 
be  able  to  renew  the  struggle  to  reach  Limpy  Hether- 
ington  the  more  quickly  when  the  condition  of  the 
fire  allowed  them  to  take  up  the  work  of  rescue. 

It  was  after  the  fight  had  gone  on  for  a  week  that 
Sunderland  Red  was  strangled  by  sulphur  gas  and  then 
frightfully  burned  by  an  explosion.  The  accident  hap 
pened  shortly  after  midnight.  It  was  not  until  day 
light  that  he  arrived  at  the  hospital  in  Carbonville. 

Almost  any  other  man  would  have  died  before  the 
rescuing  party  reached  him;  but  Sunderland  Red  was 
far  too  sturdy  to  give  up  the  ghost  tamely  and  die  like 
a  rat  in  a  hole.  He  would  fight  for  his  life.  The  vet 
eran  coal  miner  is  a  fighter — whether  he  fights  fire  or 
sulphur  gas  or  the  devil;  and  Sunderland  Red  had 
fought  all  three. 

He  did  not  need  to  be  told  how  serious  his  case 
was.  As  soon  as  Dr.  Creigan  and  the  young  assistants 
in  the  hospital  were  through  with  him,  he  sent  the 
young  men  who  worked  on  the  same  shift  with  him 
as  messengers,  one  to  bring  Rector  Warne  and  an 
other  to  summon  a  notary. 

The  notary  was  the  first  to  arrive.  While  the  nurse 
was  arranging  matters  to  leave  the  room,  the  notary 
removed  one  after  another  his  coat,  vest,  collar  and 
tie.  The  hospitals  in  the  coal  regions  are  provided 
with  rooms  which  are  specially  prepared  for  patients 
suffering  from  burns.  The  temperature  is  kept  at  a 
stifling  degree  of  heat  in  order  to  keep  the  patient 
from  dying  from  the  shock  which  cooler  air  would 
cause. 


SULPHURING  o/SUNDERLAND  RED  371 

i 

"  It's  not  much  I've  got  to  say,  but  I  want  you  to 
make  it  all  fair  and  square."  The  voice  sounded  thick 
and  muffled  through  the  stiff  linen  mask  which 
enveloped  his  face.  A  hole  was  cut  in  the  centre 
through  which  he  breathed,  and  two  other  openings 
were  made  behind  which  his  eyes  burned  with  a  fever 
ish  light.  Oil  was  dripping  from  the  mask. 

"  In  my  trunk  is  a  package  of  six  notes  for  fifty 
dollars  apiece.  I  want  those  burned.  The  Lord  don't 
need  me  any  longer  in  the  Mudtown  Mission,  since 
He's  got  the  Grace  Church  interested  in  it.  I  doubt 
not,  I'm  done  for  and  I  want  to  fix  it  that  the  bit  of 
money  I've  got —  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars 
in  the  savings  bank  in  Carbonville — is  to  be  given  to 
Teed  Hetherington.  Pocr  little  Teed!  How'll  she 
ever  get  along,  if  Limpy  don't  get  out?  But  she's  the 
Lord's  child  and  He'll  look  out  for  her.  Now  write 
that  the  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars  is  to  go  to 
Rector  Warne  to  be  used  for  Teed  Hetherington." 

He  was  so  exhausted  before  it  was  all  done,  that 
the  notary  did  not  think  it  safe  to  try  to  get  his 
signature,  seeing  what  it  would  cost  him  to  use  his 
clumsy,  bandaged  hands.  But  he  roused  himself 
again  when  he  learned  that  Mrs.  Warne  had  arrived. 
She  had  laid  aside  her  wraps  and  was  ready  to  enter 
the  forcing  house  temperature  of  the  ward.  Her  dark 
blue  gown  set  off  her  stately  beauty  to  perfection.  Sun- 
derland  Red  followed  her  with  his  eyes  from  the 
moment  she  came  into  the  room  until  she  passed 
around  his  bed  and  sat  down  by  the  head  of  the  cot, 
unconscious  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not  uttered  a  word 


372  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

in  reply  to  her  greeting  nor  acknowledged  the  gift  of 
flowers  she  brought. 

She  did  not  offer  to  take  the  bandaged  hand  he  held 
out  to  her  at  length,  but  only  touched  the  pillow  with 
a  gesture  of  pity. 

"  Oh !  we're  so  proud  of  you !  "  she  cried.  "  The 
young  man  told  us  how  you  had  brought  him  out,  when 
he  was  overcome,  at  the  risk  of  your  own  life,  and 
how  you  took  the  place  of  danger  yourself  because 
he  wasn't  a  Christian!  Mr.  Hudderfield,  it  was  fine! 
It  was  the  act  of  a  hero !  "  Although  her  voice  was 
tense  with  excitement  it  was  also  tender  with  sympathy, 
like  the  caressing  tone  of  a  mother  with  an  injured 
child. 

"  I  had  to  do  it.  It  was  only  what  I  ought  to  do. 
It's  part  of  the  trade  of  mining  for  some  to  be  hurt. 
I'm  glad  it  wasn't  Tom,  for  he's  been  wild  like.  I've 
been  the  same  myself.  But  thank  God,  that's  over! 
I  hope  it's  over  for  him  too.  I  shouldn't  have  let 
them  send  for  you  to  come  to  such  a  place  as  this,  Mrs. 
Warne.  It  isn't  fitting  for  you.  It  was  Mr.  Warne  I 
sent  for." 

'  Yes,  I  know.  But  Mr.  Warne  is  away.  I  should 
have  come  anyhow,  when  you  were  in  such  agony. 
You  mustn't  think  of  me.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  see 
you  suffer  so,  but  what  must  it  be  for  you  to  bear?  If 
I  could  only  do  something  to  help  you !  " 

"  Could  you  sing?  Sing  my  sister's  piece.  You've 
heard  me  tell  about  it  and  the  way  the  Lord  found  me. 
Whiter  than  Snow. — that's  it." 

So  Helen  steadied  herself  and  sang.     She  thought 


SULPHURING  0/SUNDERLAND  RED  373 

lie  was  sleeping  when  she  had  finished,  and  would  have 
left  the  room.  But  one  of  the  nurses  whose  hand  was 
against  the  artery  in  the  neck  whispered,  "  You'd  better 
stay.  I  don't  think  you'll  want  him  to  go  out  alone." 

But  he  was  not  sleeping.  Just  gathering  up  the 
powers  of  his  soul  in  the  silence  to  welcome  that  stately 
guest,  whose  message  he  had  so  often  escaped  amid 
the  dangers  of  the  mines. 

"  I  know  it  won't  be  long,"  he  said,  catching  the 
meaning  of  the  nurse's  whisper  without  hearing  the 
words.  "  It's  all  right !  I'm  ready  at  any  time  now. 
If  you  could  stay,  Mrs.  Warne,  I  wish  you  would 
sing  some  more  to  me." 

Then  followed  some  messages,  briefly  and  tenderly 
spoken  to  various  friends.  "  Now  sing  the  rector's 
piece  to  me,"  he  said. 

So  Helen  sang  again : 

"  O  Love  That  will  not  let  me  go, 

I  rest  my  weary  soul  in  Thee  ; 
I  give  Thee  back  the  life  I  owe 
That  in  Thine  ocean  depths  its  flow 
May  richer,  fuller  be. 

O  Light  that  followest  all  my  way, 

I  yield  my  flickering  torch  to  Thee: 
My  heart  restores  its  borrowed  ray 
That  in  Thy  sunshine's  blaze  its  day 
May  brighter,  fairer  be. 

0  Joy  that  seekcst  me  through  pain, 

I  cannot  close  my  heart  to  Thee  ; 

1  trace  the  rainbow  through  the  rain 
And  feel  the  promise    is    not    vain 

That  morn  shall  tearless  be. 


374  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

0  Christ  that  liftest  up  my  head, 

I  dare  not  ask  to  fly  from  Thee-; 

1  lay  in  dust  life's  glory  dead 

And  from  the  ground  there  blossoms  red 
Life  that  shall  endless  be." 

The  eyes  behind  the  mask  flamed  for  a  moment  and 
the  clumsy  hands  were  lifted  together  as  if  in  prayer. 
Then  they  sank  helplessly  to  the  white  coverlet. 


A  PLUNGE 
INTO  CHURCH  UNITY 


"  The  clashing  of  creeds  and  the  strife 
Of  many  beliefs  that  in  vain 
Perplex  men's  heart  and  brain, 
Arc  naught  but  the  rustle  of  leaves 
When  the  breath  of  God  upheaves 
The  boughs  of  the  tree  of  life." 

— ANON. 


XXVI 

A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY 

THE  turning  point  in  the  religious  history  of 
Coalton  came  on  the  night  when  Rector 
Warne  made  his  famous  leap.  Up  to  this 
time  he  had  been  able  to  reach  certain  men  and 
women  by  ones  and  twos,  such  widely  different  per 
sons  as  Breece  and  McCarty  and  the  Hattons  and 
Mrs.  Gooch  and  Morris  and  Davis  and  even  Whiz 
Nichol.  Then  there  had  been  such  helpers  as  Dr.  Crei- 
gan,  and  Kate  Hatton  and  dear  old  Sunderland  Red. 
But  after  this  leap  in  the  direction  of  church  unity  he 
began  to  take  hold  upon  the  mass  of  the  people  as  he 
never  had  before.  Indeed  it  was  the  beginning  of  an 
awakening  in  the  church  of  Coalton  for  which  he  had 
longed  and  prayed. 

Until  just  before  the  rector's  leap  there  had  been 
no  denominational  rivalry  in  the  town.  Many  of 
the  people  belonged  by  birth  to  some  other  church,  but 
they  had  all  been  contented  to  worship  with  the  rec 
tor's  flock  when  they  went  to  church  at  all. 

But  now  the  town  was  to  be  invaded  by  a  new  de 
nomination.  Brother  Smiler,  the  famous  evangelist 
was  about  to  pitch  his  tent  for  a  month's  revival  serv 
ices  in  Coalton  with  the  avowed  determination  of  or 
ganizing  a  new  church.  It  will  be  remembered  that 

377 


378  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Brother  Smiler  had  been  in  Coalton  once  before  as  a 
captain  in  the  Salvation  Army.  Soon  after  leaving 
the  Army  he  had  emerged  as  a  full-fledged  evangelist, 
having  lost  nothing  of  his  warrior's  zeal  with  the 
sword. 

Brother  Smiler's  methods  are  well  known.  Even  to 
this  day,  in  his  public  addresses  he  spares  neither 
church  nor  individual;  but  at  that  time,  at  the  begin 
ning  of  his  career,  his  attacks  upon  what  he  considered 
wrong  within  the  church  were  little  short  of  terrific. 
His  first  manifesto  in  Coalton  was  a  challenge  to  all 
earnest  souls  to  leave  a  church  which  he  said  was 
hopelessly  sodden  with  worldliness  and  formality. 

It  took  but  little  time  for  the  evangelist  to  pitch  his 
tent,  placard  the  town,  and  gather  singers  for  his  open 
air  services.  The  quiet  of  the  community  was  broken 
by  the  prospect  of  a  religious  war.  Somehow  it  was 
felt  that  the  hot  summer  air  was  charged  with  ecclesi 
astical  electricity. 

It  had  been  an  unusually  dry  season.  The  gardens 
shrivelled.  Even  the  leaves  of  the  few  trees  left  on 
the  mountain  sides  grew  rusty  brown.  By  the  end 
of  July  the  drouth  grew  so  severe  that  the  waters  of 
the  creek  had  almost  disappeared  and  the  supply  of 
water  in  the  reservoir  had  become  so  low  that  extra 
precautions  were  taken  to  prevent  an  outbreak  of  fire. 
So  the  rector  had  announced  at  the  morning  service 
that  on  the  following  Sunday  he  would  offer  the  prayer 
for  rain  prescribed  by  the  church. 

When  the  Sunday  came  the  rector  prayed  most  fer 
vently  : 


A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY  379 

"  O  God,  heavenly  Father,  who  by  thy  son  Jesus 
Christ,  hast  promised  to  all  who  seek  thy  kingdom  and 
the  righteousness  thereof,  all  things  necessary  to  their 
bodily  sustenance,  send  us,  we  beseech  thee,  in  this 
our  necessity,  such  moderate  rain  and  showers  that  we 
may  receive  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  to  our  comfort  and 
to  thy  honour,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 

Although  the  day  had  been  as  hot  and  dusty  as  ever, 
yet  on  Sunday  night  a  gentle  shower  laid  the  dust  and 
washed  the  grime  from  the  leaves  and  grass. 

While  the  people  were  talking  about  the  shower  on 
Monday,  Brother  Smiler  declared  publicly  that  he  too 
would  pray  for  rain  that  very  night  in  the  tent.  This 
rivalry  between  the  church  and  the  tent  furnished  the 
choicest  delectation  for  the  ungodly  in  Mark  Owens' 
saloon.  On  the  Saturday  night  before  the  prayer  for 
rain  in  the  church,  Owens  had  harangued  the  crowd 
in  his  saloon,  offering  to  bet  even  money  that  there 
would  be  no  rain;  and  now  on  Monday  he  spent  his 
energies  trying  to  obtain  takers  at  five  to  three  that 
Smiler's  prayers  would  bring  a  greater  downpour  than 
the  rector's  fervent  appeal. 

"  You  fellows  is  no  good !  "  he  said  when  the  crowd 
seemed  disinclined  to  take  up  his  offer.  "  Where's  your 
public  spirit?  Don't  you  know  how  bad  this  town 
needs  rain?  These  here  rival  rain  makers  ought  to 
be  encouraged.  I'll  put  up  half  as  much  again  and 
divide  it  between  'em,  if  I  win,  if  you  say  so.  I  hear 
the  rector  only  prayed  for  moderate  showers,  but  what 
we  want  is  a  reg'lar  soakin'  rain.  Long  as  the  rector 
was  tryin'  to  play  a  lone  hand  I  didn't  take  no  stock  in 


380  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

his  success.  Now  he's  bound  to  win.  What  we  want 
is  church  union  in  this  thing.  Now  that  he  and  Smilcr 
are  both  on  the  same  side,  we're  bound  to  have  rain. 
And  when  it  comes  right  down  to  street  sprinklin',  I'll 
bet  any  man  that  Smiler  will  just  make  it  everlastingly 
pour." 

The  result  of  all  this  talk  Owens  had  not  foreseen ; 
when  night  came  there  was  hardly  a  man  in  the  town 
who  was  not  at  the  tent.  The  saloon  keq^er  might  as 
well  have  closed  up  his  shop. 

True  to  his  promise,  as  soon  as  the  preliminary  song 
service  was  over,  Brother  Smilcr,  began  to  pray  for 
rain.  There  was  none  of  the  stately  diction  of  the 
liturgy  about  his  prayer.  The  need  of  water  in  the 
homes  of  his  audience,  for  filling  the  streams,  for  the 
fire  department — all  the  various  public  and  private 
needs  of  the  people  were  set  forth.  The  prayer  stopped 
abruptly  and  the  audience  were  requested  to  sing 
"  There  Shall  be  Showers  of  Blessing." 

So  the  audience  sang, 

"  There  shall  be  showers  of  blessing  : 

Send  them  upon  us,  O  Lord  ; 
Grant  to  us  now  a  refreshing, 

Come,  and  now  honour  Thy  Word." 

While  they  sang  there  was  a  patter  of  rain  drops  on 
the  canvas  roof.  Now  Coalton  was  a  famous  "  show 
town "  and  the  audience  were  more  accustomed  to 
spectacular  effects  in  the  theatre  than  to  the  worship 
of  God.  Instantly  all  over  the  tent  there  was  a  spon 
taneous  clapping  of  hands  and  Mick  Phelan  let  loose 
a  shrill  whistle. 


A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY  381 

Rector  Warne  had  gone  down  to  the  tent  without 
knowing  that  there  was  to  be  any  rivalry  to  his  prayer 
of  the  day  before.  He  stood  outside  the  can 
vas,  far  enough  away  to  be  out  of  sight  but  not  out  of 
hearing-.  Smiler's  prayer  had  been  most  painful  to  his 
ears.  Its  easy  familiarity  seemed  to  him  almost 
blasphemous.  When  the  rain  began  to  fall  and  the 
people  applauded,  the  rector  turned  away  with  a  feel 
ing  that  was  almost  disgust.  As  he  turned  to  go  home, 
Brother  Smiler,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  quieted  the 
hand-clapping  and  then  led  the  people  in  singing  the 
Doxology.  Then  the  rector  saw  that  a  great  storm 
was  upon  them. 

Coalton,  lying  in  its  narrow  gorge  between  steep 
ridges  running  north  and  south,  can  hardly  see  storms 
from  the  west  until  they  are  ready  to  break  upon  the 
town.  So  great  had  been  the  interest  in  the  meeting 
that  none  of  the  people  had  noted  the  approach  of  the 
shower.  After  the  storm  broke,  none  could  leave  the 
place.  The  tent  stood  at  such  a  distance  from  any 
buildings  that  there  was  no  other  place  of  shelter  to 
which  the  people  could  flee.  They  therefore  crowded 
close  together  beneath  the  frail  canvas  below  the  speak 
er's  platform. 

The  evangelist  seemed  to  think  that  the  storm  was 
his  great  opportunity.  Each  gust  of  wind  seemed  to 
bring  an  increment  of  power  to  his  voice;  with  each 
crash  of  thunder  his  earnestness  of  manner  grew  more 
intense.  He  appealed  to  the  consciences  of  his  hearers 
with  the  directness  of  an  accusing  spirit  at  the  bar  of 
judgment.  Groans  and  cries  rose  from  every  side. 


382  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

Presently  the  noise  grew  so  great  that  even  the  power 
ful  voice  of  Brother  Smiler  could  not  be  heard. 

Encouraged  by  Brother  Smiler,  the  organ  was  kept 
playing  and  the  people  were  urged  to  sing  well  known 
hymns  as  loudly  as  possible.  But  the  singing  was  only 
partially  successful.  At  short  intervals,  every  voice 
would  be  drowned  by  the  crashing  of  thunder.  Be 
sides,  the  music  was  interrupted  continually  by  the 
creaking  of  the  tent  poles,  the  charing  of  guy  ropes, 
and  the  flapping  of  the  wet  canvas. 

Brother  Smiler  was  ubiquitous.  Now  he  was  upon 
the  platform,  giving  out  a  new  tune  in  stentorian  tones 
or  calling  on  some  one  to  pray.  In  the  midst  of  the 
singing  he  would  personally  inspect  and  adjust  the 
cordage  of  the  tent.  During  the  prayer  he  would  leave 
the  platform  to  pass  through  the  audience  to  lift  back 
with  his  own  hands  some  woman  who  was  creating  a 
small  panic  by  her  attempts  to  induce  her  husband  to 
take  her  home,  or  to  encourage  some  trembling  sinner 
to  make  his  peace  with  God.  Every  few  minutes,  with 
a  voice  that  rose  high  above  the  Babel  of  sounds, 
Brother  Smiler  would  shout  out  some  words  of  ex 
hortation  ending  with  the  texts  which  he  had  brought 
together  from  the  foundation  of  his  sermon :  "  Come 
out  from  among  them  and  be  ye  separate.  How  shall 
ye  escape,  if  ye  neglect  so  great  salvation?  " 

Into  this  clash  of  sounds  and  kaleidescope  of  lights 
and  figures,  Rector  Warne  stepped  when  the  storm 
was  at  its  worst.  Brother  Smiler  had  stopped  trying 
to  preach  and  was  at  that  moment  bending  over  a 
young  man  whose  bloated  face,  sickly  white  with  fear, 


A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY   383 

held  itself  firm  in  tense  lines  of  resistance  against  the 
efforts  of  the  evangelist  to  move  his  conscience. 

"  Let  me  alone,"  he  growled;  "  You  can't  scare  me 
out  of  hell — nor  into  it !  " 

The  rector  stared  with  amazement  at  the  face  of  the 
young  man,  who  sat,  unconscious  of  his  approach  as  if 
neither  seeing  nor  hearing  what  went  on  about  him. 

"  I  ought  to  know  your  face,"  said  the  evangelist, 
coming  close  to  the  striking  figure  of  the  newcomer. 

"  My  name  is  Warne.     I  am  the  rector  " — 

"  When  did  you  come?  "  he  asked,  noticing  that  the 
water  dripped  from  the  clergyman's  mackintosh. 

"  Just  now." 

"  What  for?  Don't  you  know  the  danger?  If  this 
tent  should  blow  down — these  poles — these  electric 
lights."  The  evangelist  had  sunk  his  voice  into  a 
whisper.  "  It's  an  awful  responsibility  to  have  these 
people  here.  But  I  don't  dare  to  show  it,  or  we'll  have 
a  panic.  I  wouldn't  keep  them  a  moment,  if  there  was 
any  help  for  it." 

"  I  knew  the  danger,"  said  Mr.  Warne  quietly. 

"  And  yet  you  came?  "  Brother  Smiler's  face  lighted 
tip  and  he  seized  the  rector's  hand.  "  God  bless  you, 
brother.  Go  up  to  the  platform  and  say  something  that 
will  keep  the  people  quiet,  while  I  look  after  the  ropes 
on  the  windward  side.  We  can't  stand  much  more  of 
this." 

Each  man  looked  into  the  face  of  the  other  and  each 
saw  that  the  other  was  not  afraid. 

The  rector  walked  rapidly  to  the  front,  threw  off 
his  storm  coat  and  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  platform. 


384  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

His  voice  was  not  loud,  like  that  of  Brother  Smiler, 
but  it  was  wonderfully  clear  and  sweet.  Pausing  a 
moment  for  the  echo  of  a  thunder  peal  to  die  away,  he 
began  in  the  most  simple  and  tender  manner  to  speak 
of  the  love  of  God.  After  the  terrors  of  the  earlier 
exhortations  and  the  hazard  of  the  storm  the  message 
came  with  healing  power.  Men  forgot  the  peril  of  the 
place  in  the  pathos  of  the  appeal.  The  crowd  became 
more  orderly.  Women  ceased  to  roll  their  eyes  in  fear 
from  the  roof  to  the  tent  pole  sockets  or  to  catch  their 
breath  when  the  thunder  crashed,  and  began  to  wipe 
away  the  tears  which  the  divine  message  aroused. 

In  spite  of  the  storm,  the  tent  grew  quiet. 

The  rector  saw  none  of  this.  He  was  himself  un 
conscious  of  the  effect  which  his  words  were  producing. 
To  him  the  audience  had  faded  into  one  mass,  except 
for  the  passion-blurred  face  of  the  young  man,  which 
still  held  the  defiant  lines  that  Brother  Smiler's  words 
had  printed  there. 

Just  above  the  rude  reading  desk  of  the  platform,  a 
large  electric  light  swung,  supported  from  the  end  of 
a  projecting  arm  which  \vas  nailed  to  the  top  of  a  post. 
The  storm  had  not  abated.  A  section  of  the  tent  roof, 
heavy  with  water,  sagged  down  immediately  over  this 
light.  A  gust  of  wind,  heavier  than  any  that  had 
preceded  it,  caused  the  hanging  canvas  to  lift  for  a 
moment,  like  a  filled  balloon,  only  to  fall  with  a  thud 
upon  the  arm  that  held  the  light. 

The  rector  in  the  midst  of  a  most  impassioned  plea, 
a'ddressed  rather  to  God  than  to  the  handsome,  blurred 
face,  had  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven.  Standing  thus, 


A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY   385 

he  saw  the  post  shiver  under  the  blow  and  then  the 
arm,  loosened  by  the  shock,  sink  outward  and  away 
from  the  bellying  canvas  toward  the  crowded  benches 
immediately  in  front  of  the  platform.  From  his  point 
of  view,  it  seemed  that  the  lamp  must  fall  upon  the 
very  face  that  he  had  been  addressing. 

Those  who  could  see  the  rector's  face,  saw  the 
rapt,  wistful  expression  change  into  one  of  alarm. 
Then  they  saw  him  seize  the  rubber  coat  which  he 
had  laid  aside  and  spring  forward  into  the  very  faces 
of  the  people  to  catch  the  falling  lamp. 

It  was  the  kind  of  springing  catch  that  he  had  learned 
on  the  football  field.  There  was  a  woman's  shriek  and 
then  a  moment  of  awe-stilled  silence  as  the  rector 
floundered  and  fell  among  the  benches  but  holding 
aloft  the  dangerous  globe.  The  light  was  smothered 
in  the  mackintosh,  but  the  current  still  hissed  and 
sputtered  inside. 

In  a  moment  two  figures  pressed  forward  into  the 
space  which  cleared  as  if  by  magic  about  the  spot 
where  Mr.  Warne  had  fallen.  The  first  was  that  of 
the  young  man  in  whose  behalf  the  rector  had  just 
been  pleading.  In  a  few  moments  he  had  switched  the 
current  and  carried  the  darkened,  harmless  lamp  to  the 
platform.  Before  he  could  return  to  the  rector, 
Brother  Smiler  had  flung  himself  upon  him,  and  as 
soon  as  he  had  assured  himself  that  the  rector  was 
unhurt,  the  evangelist,  with  his  arms  about  Warne's 
neck  and  crying  like  a  child,  began  thanking  God  in 
coherently  for  the  dear  brother  who  had  delivered 
some  from  danger  and  death  at  so  great  risk  to  him- 


386  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

self,  yet  whose  own  life  had  been  so  wonderfully 
spared. 

There  was  no  more  attempt  to  control  the  meeting, 
although  Brother  Smiler  kept  saying-  over  and  over 
again  that  it  was  the  best  of  all  the  meetings  held.  Men 
whom  the  rector  had  felt  he  could  not  touch  pressed 
forward  to  clasp  his  hand  and  speak  broken  words  of 
love  and  purpose. 

Yet  one  for  whom  he  watched  had  not  come.  But 
when  the  storm  was  over,  as  the  evangelist  and  the 
rector  left  the  tent  together,  there  stood  the  young 
man  to  whom  Brother  Smiler  had  talked  and  for 
whom  Warne  had  prayed.  There  was  a  new  look 
on  his  face  as  he  greeted  them. 

"  I'm  done  with  it,  Mr.  Warne.  By  God's  help, 
I'm  going  to  lead  a  better  life  from  this  hour." 

"  Praise  the  Lord ! "  shouted  Brother  Smiler. 
"  Praise  the  Lord  for  saving  grace!  " 

Speechless,  Warne  grasped  the  prison-hardened  hand 
of  the  young  man  and  struggled  to  say  what  was  in  his 
heart.  "  Brother  Smiler,"  he  managed  to  say  at  last, 
"  this  man  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Bruce  Hardin." 

Brother  Smiler  took  in  the  situation  after  a  moment 
and  then  made  an  excuse  to  go  back  to  confer  with  his 
organist,  carrying  off  with  him  some  of  the  loiterers 
and  leaving  the  rector  and  Hardin  alone. 

On  the  next  night  and  the  next  Warne  was 
present  at  the  tent  meetings,  sitting  beside  Hardin. 
Afterward,  when  the  rain  for  which  both  he  and 
Brother  Smiler  had  prayed  set  in  for  a  week,  the  meet 
ings  in  the  tent  were  abandoned  and  the  evangelist 


A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY   387 

held  forth  in  the  parish  house.  No  doubt  it  was 
against  all  precedent.  Several  of  the  more  strict 
churchmen  of  the  rector's  flock  showed  their  disap 
proval  very  plainly  by  absenting  themselves  from  the 
meetings.  But  the  unchurched  of  the  community 
whom  the  rector  had  hitherto  vainly  tried  to  reach, 
crowded  the  building  to  the  doors  in  spite  of  the  pour 
ing  rain. 

To  the  credit  of  Brother  Smiler  let  it  be  said  that 
he  moderated  his  speech  somewhat.  His  "  bellowing 
yawp,"  as  one  of  the  wardens  had  called  it,  that  he 
thought  necessary  to  use  in  the  tent,  sank  within 
reasonable  bounds  when  he  found  himself  in  the  parish 
house.  His  intolerance  for  the  opinions  of  those  who 
did  not  agree  with  him  in  all  things  also  moderated 
to  a  large  degree.  When  they  came  to  look  one  an 
other  in  the  face  in  the  rector's  study  and  to  discuss 
the  spiritual  needs  of  the  outcasts  and  the  unchurched 
of  Coalton,  each  man  found  in  the  other  so  much  genu 
ine  earnestness  that  the  points  on  which  they  differed, 
both  in  regard  to  doctrines  and  forms,  soon  were  for 
gotten. 

If  the  weather  on  the  first  Sunday  after  the  two  men 
had  come  into  personal  touch  had  not  been  just  as  it 
was,  perhaps  the  newly  formed  alliance  might  have 
suffered.  But  Providence  directed  that  the  rain  should 
pour  in  a  perfect  deluge  in  the  morning,  so  that  the 
rector  could  hold  his  own  service  at  eleven  o'clock, 
while  the  tent  at  half  past  ten  had  been  impossible.  So 
Smiler  and  his  admirers  had  come  to  the  church.  In 
the  afternoon  the  clouds  that  had  lowered  for  so  long 


388  THOSE  BLACK  DIAMOND  MEN 

suddenly  lifted.  The  sun  shone  warm  and  bright  and 
in  the  evening  the  great  tent  was  filled  as  never  before 
to  hear  Brother  Smiler  and  the  rector. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you !  "  shouted  Owens,  who  had 
attended  service  for  the  first  time.  "  The  resen  airs 
all  filled  up;  the  gardens  soaked;  streams  bank-full  and 
bustin' !  All  because  them  two  gocpel-sharks  has  got 
together.  Come  in  and  have  a  drink  on  it.  No?  Well, 
just  as  you  like,  but  it  won't  cost  you  a  cent.  I  don't 
have  no  drink  for  sale  on  Sundays." 

In  the  end  Brother  Smiler's  invasion  had  proved 
the  greatest  blessing  to  the  church  of  Coalton.  There 
was  no  more  talk  of  building  a  new  church.  When  the 
evangelist  left  to  fill  another  engagement,  the  converts 
of  the  tent  meetings  came  by  scores  to  the  church  to 
be  confirmed, — more  men  than  the  rector  had  ever 
dared  to  dream  would  come. 

It  was  this  fact  which  more  than  all  else  humbled 
him.  He  had  come  into  Coalton  determined  to  lead 
men  to  Christ,  and  then  had  staggered  at  the  sight 
of  such  depths  of  human  misery  and  wickedness  as 
seemed  to  him  to  be  beyond  the  power  of  God  to 
change.  He  had  fought  the  doubts  of  which  he  was 
conscious  and  laid  the  fears  which  he  knew  and  felt, 
yet  it  seemed  to  him  he  had  been  guilty  of  a  practical 
unbelief  in  the  love  of  God  to  reach  even  unto  the 
uttermost.  This  practical  unbelief  now  seemed  to  him 
to  be  far  worse  than  any  of  the  scholastic  difficulties 
with  which  he  had  struggled. 

Yet  in  spite  of  all  these  hindrances  the  work  had 
prospered.  The  renewed  church  showed  a  most  vigour- 


A  PLUNGE  INTO  CHURCH  UNITY   389 

ous  life.  The  people  were  loyal  and  hopeful,  ready 
for  the  great  work  which  yet  remained  to  be  done. 
It  seemed  so  great  a  miracle  that  Warne  could  only 
feel  that  he  had  had  but  little  to  do  in  bringing  it 
about. 

In  the  face  of  this  miracle  anything  seemed  possible. 
A  vision  of  a  renewed  society  swept  through  his  mind. 
He  saw  the  church  touch  the  lives  of  the  people  of  the 
community  at  every  point.  He  saw  a  valley  without 
strikes.  He  saw  the  labour  of  the  miners  so  safe 
guarded  that  danger  was  minimized.  He  saw  the  peo 
ple  so  prosperous  that  the  little  children  were  no  longer 
driven  to  work  before  they  were  taught  to  read  and 
while  their  bodies  were  so  immature  that  they  fell  early 
victims  to  their  unhealthy  surroundings.  He  saw  a 
new  Coalton  wherein  dwelt  righteousness. 

Then  a  more  sober  vision  succeeded,  in  which  men 
still  toiled  and  struggled  in  darkness,  but  with  faces 
toward  the  morning.  There  was  still  the  conflict,  but 
it  was  not  hopeless.  The  picture  he  saw  was  still  the 
Anthrax  Valley  he  knew  and  the  Coalton  he  had 
learned  to  love,  but  the  men  were  no  longer  all  ar 
rayed  on  the  side  of  the  powers  of  darkness.  And  he 
thanked  God  and  took  courage. 


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